


The Falcon

by krisherdown



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Writing & Publishing, M/M, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-22
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-11-27 00:26:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krisherdown/pseuds/krisherdown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> AU.  Novak goes to Spain to look for inspiration to create the Next Great Superhero. </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The idea came up because of this awesome [Ben Folds video.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yF_doTsG4t0)

Novak would like to say that he chose Spain because of its history but it’s really just because of how pretty everyone is. There is a ridiculous amount of beauty, from the buildings to the beaches, but it’s nothing compared to the people.  

He’s written stories, even gotten a novella published called _The Great Jelena_. But he quickly learns that anyone can say they’re published – it’s getting people to buy the product that’s the challenge. The only one who'd bought the tale was his then-girlfriend Jelena – and even that didn’t last as she wanted him to grow up.  
   
He’d been in Serbia his whole life and the world was out there for the taking. It would be awesome to be a hero, to be able to provide hope for his people, but the only way he could see that happening was with a bright costume.  
   
 _The Falcon_ was born. Spread his wings, swoop in and save the day. Novak had even drawn sketches of the idea but he’s no artist. His brother Marko found a sketch in the garbage and pretty much looked at Novak like he thought big brother was going mad.  
   
Novak ventures to Valencia in hopes of finding an artist. He was taking classes at university more to pass time and allow him a chance to walk the halls while simultaneously getting his parents off his back.   
   
What he got was the amazing fingers of one David Ferrer. Soft spoken but precise with the strokes as he was working on a portrait when they first met in a painting class, Novak just knew he needed David by his side. David was quite confused by the foreigner with limited Spanish approaching about his work but was eager to help create a vision that fit what was in Novak’s head.  
   
The second day, Novak crashes David’s tranquil lunch with his friend Juan Carlos to pick their brains about comics. The answer is: they didn’t know much. David doesn't care about the various different versions of Superman over the years and Juan Carlos seems to think it was a waste of time and beyond childish.  
   
It is surprising, then, that David says the thing that really would help the story come to life. “Many of them have sidekicks, no? The brains of the pair. Rather awkward.  Makes the superhero appear suave and smooth in comparison. Maybe you can find someone to emulate that role.”  
   
Juan Carlos snaps, “That is stupid. Who would want to be someone’s sidekick? It’s demeaning!  What you two need is to head to the tennis courts and get the muscles moving instead of living in your heads.”  
   
David stares down at the table, Novak seeing there is much more to these two that needs to be discussed sometime when Juan Carlos isn’t around. But in the moment, he also knows The Falcon does need a sidekick.  
  
Sometimes it's a random choice that turns out to be the necessary component.  Novak never thought that going along with David and Juan Carlos to the nearby tennis academy would be just that type of decision.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit to the tennis academy leads Novak to the ideal sidekick and David to cross paths with Marat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up using 2005 as the starting point for this story, as there are tennis players being tennis players involved. Oh, my drawing skills suck but I felt compelled to at least show what David drew in this chapter, which I linked at the end..

When Juan Carlos said to hit the tennis courts, this was certainly not what Novak envisioned. A sprawling set of courts with players at every turn. This is so much more professional than the club that Novak and his brothers had played at. He is glad at this point Juan Carlos offered to drive Novak back to his apartment for workout clothes because he really wants to get on that court himself.   
    
He is quite impressed with the physical specimens on display. They look like athletes. Glancing toward Juan Carlos, Novak realizes that he is likely a regular resident here because he fits in perfectly.   
    
“Juan Carlos!” a definitely-not-Spanish, amazingly attractive man calls out. Novak swears that David huffs in reply as Juan Carlos gives a quick wave before leading them over.   
    
“Marat! I haven’t seen you around lately,” Juan Carlos exclaims then embraces this Marat. “Novak, this is one of the coaches, Marat Safin. His sister is probably the best player from here.”   
    
“I would have been a great one but the knee didn’t agree.” Marat taps the knee, then gives a smirk. “So I’ll have to live through her successes. Do you play? You look in pretty good shape.”   
    
“Thanks. I have in the past but opportunities in Serbia are few. Haven’t played since coming to Spain for school.” Novak glances wistfully toward the courts. His father had pushed for success in sports in all his boys. This worked fine until he couldn’t get any more loans and choices had to be made, which forced Novak to stay in Serbia and gravitate toward the writing.   
    
Marat says, “Can understand that. I left Russia for these red clay pastures.”   
    
Juan Carlos says to Marat, “I thought it would be good for Novak to clear his head by hitting some balls.” David wrinkles his nose and turns away as if the conversation is making him nauseated.   
    
Marat grins, then says, “Well, maybe we should get you guys onto a court then. I’m supposed to be playing with an up-and-coming pro but… frankly, I don’t want to do it. He drives me nuts. Damn know-it-all kid, doesn’t listen to me at all, just wants a hitting partner since his coach isn’t around,” then gestures toward a bench.   
    
Novak looks in the direction Marat is pointing. Skinny kid, red hair, playing around with the tennis ball as if it were a football. This is the vision Novak has been waiting for in a sidekick. Even so, Novak’s mouth moves ahead of his brain when he says, “If he just needs a hitting partner, I could do it.”   
    
David shakes his head furiously, “Novak, you do not want to do…”   
    
Marat cuts off David to reply, “That is a wonderful idea. You hit with Andy so I can work more closely with Juan Carlos. His serve was having issues last time he was here.”    
    
Novak pulls David away, quite excited as he explains, “He would be perfect as the sidekick.”   
    
“What?” David turns back to see Marat holding Juan Carlos’ right arm up to go over service motion.   
    
“The Falcon needs a sidekick, you said. That’s the perfect vision,” holding his hand out as they walk toward the bench.   
    
“I feel like I’ve entered an alternate universe. _Andy_ is the perfect vision?”   
    
“Marat called him a know-it-all. Awkward looking. Okay, maybe doesn’t move awkwardly if he’s bouncing the ball around like that but he doesn’t look imposing. Have to think of a good name for him.”   
    
“I’m beginning to wonder why I’m listening to you.”   
    
“Because you believe in my vision, David. Now, Marat said he’s a pro?”   
    
“Yeah. Andy is playing the lower levels of the tour, quickly moving up the ranks. He figured out about Marat’s knee issues within two games and did a ton of drop shots their first day. Marat has disliked him ever since. He’s British but has been living in Spain the last three years.”   
    
“It gets better and better,” Novak maintains, wishing he had a notepad. “Are you understanding what I’m seeing?”   
    
David mutters, “I know what Andy looks like but it doesn’t mean I get what you’re seeing,” then calls out, “Hi, Andy.”   
    
Andy stops what he’s doing, then glances toward Marat, grumbling, “He is such a coward, sending you here again to do his dirty work. Marat does realize you’re only a recreational player, right? Well, guess he’d realize that if he wasn’t so keen on one-on-one with Ferrero.”   
    
Novak cuts in front of the glaring Spaniard and says, “Actually, I volunteered. Novak. I just moved to Valencia. I attend university with David and Juan Carlos. I was just seeing where Juan Carlos hangs out and kind of got roped into playing.”   
    
“Oh. You any good?”   
    
“I was one of the top players in Serbia back in 14-and-under.”   
    
Andy shrugs. “Okay. Well, you can borrow one of my racquets and I’ll give you time to stretch before doing drills.”   
    
All seems calm the first half hour on the court as they trade shots in drills. So of course Novak is stupid enough to want to do a real set.   
    
“Are you serious?” Andy lightly chuckles, then says flatly, “Sure. We can do that.”   
    
Novak mumbles under his breath, “Catchphrase,” then camps out on the baseline as if ready to return serve. “Let it rip.”   
    
* * * * *   
    
It doesn’t take long for Novak to comprehend why David was trying to talk him out of playing. The score he doesn’t care about since he knows Andy is a pro. What he didn’t expect was to be so worn out after only playing six games, all he lost.   
    
Finally, Novak collapses down on the ground in front of the bench David was sitting on. He notices two colored pencils and a tiny notepad in David’s hands and says, “So you’re working on that idea?”   
    
“Not exactly.”    
    
Novak reaches up with his hand to grab the pad. It’s a sketch of a body with black spiky hair face down in the red clay. He whacks David in the leg with the pad and grumbles, “You’re no help at all.”   
    
Andy sits on the bench next to David, glances at the picture, then says to Novak, “You do strike me as the type who would like to make a clay angel. You okay?”   
    
“I suddenly understand why Marat hates you.” Novak gets off the ground and begins wiping the clay off. “How did you end up in Spain, anyway? England is known for all the money they put into their tennis program. My parents had even pursued the idea of getting me to play for that country as a means to get some money.”   
    
“Not everyone takes the same path to the top,” Andy says. Novak is sure there’s a longer explanation lingering, but Andy changes the topic. “You’re actually pretty good, considering you haven’t played in awhile. You were chasing down everything, keeping the point going. Until my coach is back in town, would you like to come down and hit with me after classes?”   
    
“I could do that,” Novak says brightly, right now wanting to stay in proximity while ideas for the comic swirl in his head.   
    
* * * * *   
    
Novak doesn’t hear David’s opinion on this until lunch the next day. David states it simply and to the point. “You are an idiot.”   
    
“The Falcon is the alter ego of world traveler Pablo Andujar, that’s a great name. His sidekick… um, I’m working on the name… but he has all the ideas and Pablo takes credit for them. I think more will flow once I can get the visuals clear. David, please go along with this.”   
    
David lets out a loud sigh then says, “I suppose. Not like I have anything better to do. But I don’t need to be hanging around the tennis courts to accomplish this. I’m not drawing Andy specifically, just some version of him.”   
    
“You don’t want to deal with watching Marat have his hands all over Juan Carlos.”   
    
“Juanqui does enjoy the attention,” David grumbles, then pulls out the notepad. “But here’s something I worked out. I don’t know about Pablo Andujar or the sidekick but this could be The Falcon. I did this on the bus between bumps in the road but at least it’ll get the ideas rolling.”   
    
Novak sees the drawing* and it feels right. He’s rather amused that David gave this guy essentially Novak’s hair and Serbia’s colors. “Excellent start. You’re right, it’s easier to imagine even with this rough drawing. Can I have this?”   
    
“Go ahead.” David rips the page out of the pad and hands it to him.    
    
Novak has to admit that the drawing is just enough of the image of himself being a superhero that the high takes him through the day – well, until he is knocked down to earth by Andy on the tennis court.   
    
He had been thinking about a Spanish superhero but it could be Serbian instead… and it would be fun to think of himself as a superhero for a little while in creating this comic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is the [drawing](http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a309/mooncreek/thefalconsketch.jpg) if you're interested


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Novak and Andy begin to bond but Juan Carlos wonders if the sidekick role is wrong for the source.

“Have you heard of Rafael Nadal?” Andy asks out of the blue one day after a grueling practice session.  Well, grueling for Novak not so much for Andy but this was his second session of the day so no big deal to him.  Novak has tortured himself with these trips for nearly a week now but this is the first time they’ve seriously talked after the session about something that didn’t happen _in_ the session.  
   
The question, however, seems dumb to Novak.  “He’s only the reason Spain won the Davis Cup last year over the United States.  So, yeah.”  
   
“You asked me why I moved to Spain.  He is the reason.  There is a great tradition in Spain when it comes to tennis, students fight so hard because there is such history to respect.  The British are happy with being the best of a weak lot.  I could never be a Grand Slam champion with that group.”  
   
“Do you honestly think you can accomplish that?”  
   
“If I have the right plan, yes.  You have to make sacrifices to be a champion and that’s why I’m here.”  
   
“You mean being in an unfamiliar country all alone since you were fifteen?”  
   
Andy shrugs.  “It’s not so bad now.  At least I’m decent with Spanish, even though everyone still assumes I don’t know the language.  I hear people around here talk about me to my face, thinking I can’t understand them.  If Marat wonders why I torture him on the court, them maybe he should stop doing that.  It’s so fucking irritating and he, of all people, should know better.”  He looks to Novak, then asks, “Why did you move to Spain?”  
   
“Opportunities are few in Serbia.  My father has believed that I would be successful at _something._   Thought it'd be tennis but the money dried up and he got in deep with loan sharks.  Just wasn't meant to be."  Novak shakes his head, not wanting to think about that time.  "It is so inspiring to be in Spain, especially as a writer.”  
  
Novak is thankful Andy goes along with the change in subject.  “A writer?  Are you waiting to write The Next Great Novel?” Andy’s tone is teasing, as if this is just a pipe dream.  
   
“I have written a novel already, hot shot.  Even got it published but nobody bought it.”  
   
“Seriously?”  Andy sits up, staring straight at Novak.  “That is still pretty awesome.  What’s it about?”  
   
“I wanted something uplifting and the only thing good at that point was my girlfriend Jelena.  So I wrote a romance about her, published it a year ago.  Made no dent whatsoever in the selling market.  She dumped me soon after for someone older so I’d say it was immature work.”  
   
“Somewhat limited in scope, perhaps?”  
   
“I’d rather write about that than a war-torn nation and unemployment.”  
   
“Good point.  You want to bring something positive to your people, not the usual bad news.”   Andy seems far away when he says that, as if thinking the same thing about himself.   
   
Novak had intended to tell Andy about the superhero story but he’s thrown by the letdown in attitude.  Instead Novak asks, “When does your coach return?”  
   
“Two days.”  Andy blinks, then glances and catches a glint in Novak’s eye.  He says warily, “Why?”  
   
“I heard some of the guys talking about a party tonight.  I know you generally don’t do something like having fun but your coach is away and you need to do one reckless thing before he returns.”  
   
“It’s not my coach who says… fine.”  
   
* * * * *  
   
“Hey, Da-veeeed,” Juan Carlos shouts out as soon as he spots David at the party, then drapes an arm over his shoulder.  David has been here an hour, mingling around and chatting with the few people he knows here.  Juan Carlos has definitely had a few drinks already and David just knows this won’t go well.  
   
“Some party, I see.”  
   
“You missed the first fight between Feliciano and his girlfriend.  He’s bitching to Fernando about her.  The usual.  Come on, I want to dance with you.”  
   
David shrugs.  “I suppose.”  As they head toward the dance floor, David asks, “You seen Novak yet?”  
   
“Yup.  He’s trying to convince Andy to do shots.  I don’t seriously think Andy will give in so Novak’s attempts can provide entertainment later in the evening.  I bet Novak is a fun drunk.”  
   
“What makes you say Andy won’t?”  
   
Juan Carlos raises an eyebrow as if thinking the question is pointless but David’s seriousness reminds him that David isn’t actually part of the tennis academy and doesn’t know the details of the other players.  “Marat says that he is one-track minded: make the elite level or bust.  He doesn’t hang around the other teens in the academy off the court so even being _here_ is a stunner.”  
   
“I thought he was to himself because he’s a Brit among Spaniards.”  
   
“No, it’s purely his personality.  Somehow, Novak has figured out a way in.”  
   
David nods, then notices the song has gotten slow as Juan Carlos holds out his hand.  He shrugs in reply then closes in to allow a careless hand on his hip.  He should drop the subject and allow himself to enjoy this close proximity but it’s been nagging at him and Juan Carlos is the only one he can ask without causing problems.  “Do you think Andy would react to the idea of being portrayed as a sidekick in a comic book?”  
   
“Well, he is comical _looking_.  Probably depends on how he’s portrayed.  But, no, can’t see him settling on being a sidekick.  Now can we not talk about Batman and Robin and just enjoy the song?"  
   
David leans his head on Juan Carlos' shoulder, more than pleased to savor this close contact.  
   
* * * * *  
   
“You are no fun,” Novak complains.  Andy sits back on the couch, pretty much trying not to laugh at Novak while holding a beer.  The same beer that Novak handed him when he walked in and hasn’t taken a sip of.  
   
“Sorry I’m not interested in getting drunk, like you apparently are.”  
   
Novak looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head.  “Have you ever gotten drunk or are you basing it on overly dramatic movies?”  
   
“I have gotten drunk.  Don’t see the appeal.”  
   
“Oh really?  Do anything embarrassing while drunk?”  Novak pauses, then says, “Notice how if you say the same word a few times, it sounds funny?  Drunk.  Der-runk.  Druuuunk-kah.”  
   
“Yeah, actually I did.”  Andy stares at the bottle label, then shrugs.  “Called someone late and… confessed a few things.  Rather embarrassing, actually.”  
   
“I wish I could draw,” Novak blurts out.   
   
Andy laughs at that, then deadpans, “Yes, Novak.  That is _exactly_ the kind of confession I mean.”  
   
Novak slaps Andy’s arm, then continues, “David has no idea how good he is because everyone around him is ridiculously perfect as far as he’s concerned.”  
   
“You are not perfect.”  Novak collapses back on the couch and looks on with sad eyes, pretending to be hurt by that information.  “Well, you _said_ everyone….”  
   
“Feliciano, for instance.  The guy he grew up with?  Mesmerizing eyes, _ridiculously_ handsome.  Juan Carlos?  Should totally be drawn.  Though I’d be willing to bet David has already done that.”  
   
“You’re right.  David is blind.  He doesn't realize the only reason Juan Carlos hangs on Marat’s every word is because he knows he’s being watched.”  
   
That has Novak sit upright. “Wait.  _What?_ ”  
   
“Juan Carlos only does that when David is around.  Otherwise, there’s absolutely nothing.  Marat will flirt with anyone but even _he_ is aware of the game and plays along.  Someday, David will hit his limit and go off on one of them.  In the meantime… well, you get this,” gesturing to the two on the dance floor.  Novak smiles as Andy continues, “Pure torture.”  
   
“I need to be more observant.  Superheroes notice everything.”  
   
“What?”  
   
“Nothing.”  But Novak looks around for a scrap piece of paper, already pulling a pen in his pocket, it there just in case.  The napkin will do.  "Ideas flowing.  Sorry, man."  
   
Andy tilts his head as he attempts to read what Novak wrote.  " _Charlie Mackay, attentive to details & booksmart.  Pablo's money builds toys.  Suave but Charlie is brains of operation.  Wanting to help with small crime in poor village_."  He raises an eyebrow, then says, "You're going from romance to comic book?"  
   
"Not a comic book.  Wouldn't push that much work on David.  Maybe a few illustrations but it's more story than action.  There will be romance somewhere, you can count on that."  He continues watching Juan Carlos and David, wistfully thinking about that give and take two people have that are meant to be together but not realizing it yet.  "I wish I had someone."  Novak didn't mean to say that last bit out loud but alcohol does that to someone.  
   
Andy asks, "You miss Jelena?"  
   
"She's moved on.  _I've_ moved on.  The thing is I miss that feeling.  One thing about being in a new country is that you lose the comfort.  You ever fall for someone like that?"  
   
When Andy doesn't immediately answer, Novak tilts his head toward him.  Unlike Novak, Andy can't blame alcohol so can be more cautious with the wording.  "The closest I've come didn't feel the same way.  But that's just a distraction and I don't need that."  
   
"Trust me.  When it's reciprocated, it's the greatest feeling in the world.  There is nothing, not even winning a major title, which beats it."  
   
Even Novak in this state can tell that Andy doesn't believe him for a second.  It is in that moment Novak decides he will be the one to change Andy's mind.   
 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Novak begins to worry about the development of the story and he realizes Andy has been withholding information.

_Pablo doesn’t fear the bad guys. Money helps when it comes to dealing with the exact gadget necessary for the job. Whether it’s needing a tracking device in an innocent pen or knowing how to find the landmine, this he can handle.  
  
He does fear being alone._  
  
Novak blinks as he rereads what he wrote just before falling asleep last night. It feels as if he’s making some progress on the novel the more words he writes about the characters. He does need to figure out a villain but right now he’s just trying to flesh out Pablo and Charlie. It is important to get these two in focus first as they are the centerpiece.  
  
After seeing a few sketches from David, Novak realizes he doesn’t want Charlie to be Robin to Pablo’s Batman in this story. Charlie is the brains, not the one necessarily saving the day. Instead of a costume, Novak thinks Charlie should always be in suit and tie. A turquoise business suit and neon green tie, something goofy and unlike the expensive suits Pablo wears outside of costume. Although maybe not that color scheme, too much like the Joker for comfort – but he’ll wait for David’s work to see if that’s right.  
  
Novak tries to focus on classes but it’s a losing battle. University is working out as far as the muses are concerned but his attention is on his own writing, not these exercises. His family is leaving him alone for now but once midterms come, there will need to be decisions made.  
  
* * * * *  
  
David sits down at the bench, shaking his head as he explains to Novak the result. “The colors aren’t working right together. Curly red hair, blue suit, green tie. What you have is a clown. All he needs is a pair of big floppy shoes.”  
  
Juan Carlos takes the sketchpad from Novak’s view and looks carefully at it, then at Novak before blurting out, “You really are having Andy as a sidekick! I am truly amazed.”  
  
Novak yelps, “ _This_ is a clown! Andy is not a clown!”  
  
David says, “So I _am_ supposed to draw him?”  
  
Juan Carlos shakes his head then says solemnly, “Of course it’s not Andy. He’s not skinny enough.”  
  
Novak sighs loudly, then mutters, “He is not a joke.”  
  
Juan Carlos asks, “Charlie or Andy?”  
  
“Either!” Novak groans loudly, causing the Spaniards laugh at his outburst.  
  
Juan Carlos groans in frustration. “Come on. You are so melodramatic. Are all Serbs like that or are we just lucky?” At Novak’s hurt reaction, Juan Carlos backs off. “Andy’s game is no joke.  I’m fully aware of that, thanks to Marat grumbling. Emilio actually thinks Andy is the one at the academy most likely to win a major.”  
  
Novak’s eyes widen, appearing as if Juan Carlos said something horrifying, which confuses David. “Exactly what do you mean by that?”  
  
“Do you have any idea who you became friends with?”  
  
“If I go by most of the people at the academy, Andy is a grouch who gets on the coaches’ nerves and thinks above everyone else.”  
  
“I will admit that Andy sees the world differently from most of the other students. But he can also back it up. He’s probably packing right now for a flight to Israel to play Davis Cup this weekend.”  
  
Novak yelps, “ _What?_ ” David covers his ears, not expecting that ear-piecing a screech. “Are you kidding? I thought he was playing futures and challengers!”  
  
“He is. There’s not much depth in British tennis. Either that or he’s a sacrifice.”  
  
“That simply cannot be!” Novak continues, trying to calm the inexplicable panic inside him. “Andy’s coach told me I was doing a great job as his hitting partner. I mean, I was a decent junior player but if he’s at this level then there’s something wrong with that statement.”  
  
“Not necessarily,” Juan Carlos replies. “He’s been a bit more tolerable since you started hanging around him. No longer a lonely git. Even Marat noticed…”  
  
“Nobody cares what Marat thinks,” David mutters under his breath, already having his pencils out and working on a new sketch.  
  
Juan Carlos frowns at the remark but soldiers on. “Isn’t it a _good_ thing that his coach is actually saying that you’re _helpful_? He could have realized what I already know, called you a pest or a distraction and to stop messing up his prized student. I have to get to class.”  
  
Novak stays deep in thought, the sounds of pencil on paper all that fills his head. Finally he asks, “Where do the academy students live?”  
  
David narrows his eyes as he looks up at Novak. There’s mischief in those eyes and nothing good can come from this. “You’re going to make a scene, aren’t you?”  
  
“No, David. _We_ are.”  
  
* * * * *  
  
Novak looks up at the building, trying to figure out the best way inside, while David leans against a tree and appears bored with the mission. He needs someone to let him inside so he can properly bombard Andy with a surprise tactic. He also needs to know Andy’s room number but that’s a detail to worry about later.  
  
“What do you think you’re doing?” David asks when Novak doesn’t speak or even move for five minutes. “Scaling the wall? You’re not actually a superhero, only writing about one.”  
  
“Despite what Juan Carlos might think, I’m not delusional. I do need to get into the mindset of a superhero. Pablo would have a gadget to climb the wall. Or maybe a catapult aimed right at that open window…”  
  
David finishes, “...and land in deep trouble for breaking in, not to mention likely shattering a window and _definitely_ hitting your head.”  
  
“This is a fantasy world, David.”  
  
“When you return to reality, you could just do this…” David stands up straight, realizing he’d been leaning against that tree too long, then marches over to the door and lightly taps on it. When the guy walking along the hallway hears, he approaches the door. David waves and, hoping he stumbled upon the right name for the kid who usually hangs around Coach Robredo, says, “Marcel, right? I was hoping you could help me. We’re looking for Andy… the British kid. You wouldn’t happen to know…”  
  
“I saw him leave with suitcases about a half hour ago.”  
  
David glances toward Novak, who just caught up to him, and shakes his head. He turns back to Marcel. “Thank you.” When Marcel walks away, David shrugs. “Sorry, he left already. You’re going to need a new strategy.”  
  
“Pablo would use his jet to fly to Israel and confront the lies. Did you know he’s the most recent boys’ champion of the US Open?” David shakes his head. “He is beyond… he is no sidekick and this whole enterprise is going to fall apart.” Novak pulls out a crumbled sheet of paper. “I was reading this segment on the bus and ripped it off the notepad because I’ve been writing a lot of weird stuff late at night. I couldn’t find a garbage can so I stuffed it in my pocket.”  
  
“Novak, I think you’re making a bigger deal of this than necessary. Probably Andy just wanted to seem like everyone else at the academy… or that laughing at the weird stuff you say actually relaxes him. Why are you so hung up on this?” David then reads the paper and it makes sense:  
  
 _Pablo outside the costume wears expensive suits. Moves confidently as he leads a meeting with investors. While he can pick up any woman, has trouble being himself._  
  
 _He will do anything he can to keep Charlie from finally going through on his threat of walking out the door._  



	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Novak develops the villain role while Juan Carlos’ plan to make David jealous backfires.

Novak is thankful for David at this point. David may be a bit of a grouch but he is genuinely interested in getting the vision for the story correct. Each time David has a drawing, the two of them go back and forth on what works and what doesn’t.  
  
“Ever figure out what to do about the villain?” Juan Carlos asks after one especially long – and, to him, annoying - session.  
  
Novak glances to Juan Carlos, realizing that is a rather significant problem. “I have no idea why but I think he should be French. Definitely refined so somewhat similar to Pablo but utilizes that for evil purposes.”  
  
Juan Carlos does not seem impressed with the idea. “Yeah, not as if that’s a stereotype – to have a Spaniard and a Brit against the French. How about something unexpected?”  
  
“Like what? The Swiss?”  
  
While David takes it for the joke Novak meant it to be, Juan Carlos seriously ponders that. “Actually, why not? You could still utilize French but Swiss are supposed to be neutral. The tennis tour is currently led by a Swiss guy who has a bad habit of being perfect. That could be the angle.”  
  
“Okay. Swiss. Blond and maybe kind of like a Ken doll. Except with wavy hair. Too damn good looking for his own good.” Novak glances to David, who is already writing down notes on a clean sheet of paper. “Swiss flag is red and white so the suit should make him seem patriotic. No, not a suit since that’s Pablo and Charlie’s thing. Maybe it looks like he got off a yacht or the golf course. Red polo shirt and white pants. He’d be easy for others to disregard as a bad guy. Maybe instead of good-looking, he just looks too young to be the villain. Actually he could be both. So he’s kind of like Roger Federer but not quite.”  
  
David turns back to the last drawing of the Charlie character, then nods along. “That can work. I think that might fix the Charlie problem, now that I know how he’s supposed to differ from other characters.”  
  
Novak shrugs off the comment, then grumbles, “Charlie can stay a clown for all I care.”  
  
“Nole…”  
  
“The Brits won their tie – and Andy was a real part of it! He did doubles and they were against one of the best teams in the world on their turf and the Brits won. Yet has he said a word about it to anybody? No. I had looked up the result and got all these news articles about this great achievement. I didn’t even know he was rehabbing and that’s why I was a good hitting partner.”  
  
David has started on a new page for the villain sketch. He grumbles, “But you’re not upset about it.”  
  
Juan Carlos snorts at the comment but Novak glares sharply at his reaction. Upon realizing Novak really doesn’t get it, Juan Carlos points out, “Ever notice how the Brits get about tennis? Every year, the whole country makes a big deal over even a little achievement. Andy’s goal is to win a major, not to win some match. You’re right, nobody at the academy other than us even know he was in Israel for that Davis Cup tie. That’s exactly the way he wants to be treated and he gets that playing here.”  
  
Novak nods along, wishing Juan Carlos wasn’t right. “I get that but… it’s different what he says and what reality is. It’s lying by omission.”  
  
“Just let it go for now. He’s going to be travelling, no matter what. That’s what being a professional tennis player entails.”  
  
David holds up the sketchpad. Novak is thankful, both for the distraction from Juan Carlos’ very valid arguments and to see that this character has worked better than the sidekick. “That is perfect!”  
  
* * * * *  
  
Novak had assumed he would be angry once he finally saw Andy again on the practice court. Instead, it feels like any other time – even if he’s now fighting this feeling gnawing inside that cannot be put into words. They go about practice like any other. Nothing that would indicate to an observant practice partner anything unusual happened this past weekend.  
  
“Practices have been going well,” Andy says when they’re sitting down on the bench afterwards. “I’m scheduled to play challengers in Italy the next few weeks. I hope I won’t be around so much and will be winning matches instead.”  
  
“Sounds wonderful,” Novak says with as much enthusiasm as he can muster.  
  
“How’s the story coming?”  
  
“Better. I actually got the villain. Finally.”  
  
“How’d that happen? You were struggling with Charlie last time we talked and were completely clueless about a villain.”  
  
“Sometimes brainstorming sessions work.” Novak pulls out the notepad he folded the sketches in. “I don’t remember if I showed you Pablo and Charlie. Actually, Charlie is still a problem but I like Pablo.” He places the Pablo drawing down, keeps the Charlie drawing folded. He hasn’t told Andy yet that he’s inspiration for the Charlie character and using a clown-like sketch wouldn’t help. “Now, here is our villain. Philippe Roser.”  
  
When Andy looks at the drawing, he gives it a funny look but nods along. “Rather impressive.”  
  
Novak tilts his head, trying to figure out why the mood changed. “What was that about? You don’t like it?”  
  
“No, it’s good. Just… the drawing reminds me of someone.”  
  
“It was developed using Roger Federer as a guide. Does it look like him?”  
  
“Not Federer. It’s… some guy I would run into… at junior events.”  
  
Novak can sense there’s something more to what Andy is saying, as if it’s a lot more than ‘some guy’ in the same way it wasn’t just ‘some match’ he won last weekend. “Well, then that’s nothing to be concerned with.”  
  
“You have to be concerned about actually _writing_ this epic story. That is, if your studies don’t get in the way.” Andy punctuates that sentence with a smirk, practically forcing Novak into pushing him. Not a hard shove as he wanted to do earlier, more playful than that. When they settle down, Andy asks, “Is everything okay with that?”  
  
“It wouldn’t really surprise you that I’m not really into my studies. I found inspiration to write and an artist willing to brainstorm. That makes the stay at university worthwhile.”  
  
“Would your family support that? The cost of study…”  
  
“I need to buy time. I don’t intend to return to Serbia unless I’m a success. I cannot take everyone scoffing at my dreams.”  
  
Andy looks down at the sketch of Philippe Roser in his hands then bites his lip. Novak can sense he has pieces of the puzzle but not the entire set. Finally, Andy says, “If you need to track me down for anything, I’ll give you my schedule and we’ll figure out a way.”  
  
Novak doesn’t quite know why Andy sounds so serious but he might take that offer once his father finds out about how lightly he’s been taking school. “Hopefully I won’t need your help.”  
  
* * * * *  
  
Juan Carlos is relieved that David didn’t join Novak on his trip to the academy today. He’s getting tired of dealing with Marat on a regular basis. Marat doesn’t particularly mind playing the game when it comes to making David jealous but Juan Carlos didn’t count on how stubborn his friend could be on the matter. Juan Carlos would rather be taught by someone who doesn’t insist on turning every phrase into sexual innuendo. Then again, Juan Carlos knows everything is different when you’re the one whose family owns the academy.  
  
There’s always the possibility that Juan Carlos is imagining David’s interest. They’d met when David was hired as a janitor at the academy. Juan Carlos had caught him hanging around when he wasn’t on shift, either running the track or sketching action on the court. It had taken a lot of work to convince David to pursue art because he really was that good.  
  
“Your friend didn’t show today?” Juan Carlos looks up from the bench to find Marcel Granollers having trouble facing him. This is odd since everyone knows Marcel has been crushing on Coach Robredo but he’s nowhere in the vicinity.  
  
“You mean David? I think he was sick of hearing Novak’s fantasy world. I know I am sick of hearing it.”  
  
Marcel nods as if agreeing, even though Juan Carlos doubts the kid has any clue what he means. “I was… wondering if he was seeing anyone.”  
  
Juan Carlos catches himself before making a joke. Marcel appears to be completely serious and a bit of scared of the answer. “David is single.”  
  
“Do you think he might be interested in a date?”  
  
“I don’t know if he’s interested but I know he needs to go on a date.” Juan Carlos has never heard David mention Marcel outside of the Robredo jokes but that’s what blind dates are good for. “I’ll set you two up.”  
  
“Excellent.” Marcel glances over his shoulder, then nods hurriedly before he says, “Okay then. Thanks so much.”  
  
But when Marcel walks away, Juan Carlos is greeted with the bright smile of Marat Safin and everything is making so much more sense. When he’s spotted, Marat saunters over then whispers in Juan Carlos’ ear, “I made the decision since you can’t make the move. Tommy was sick of dealing with Marcel so I opted to help both of you out. He’ll be thanking me tonight in bed because you refuse to be anything more than a tease.”  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pursuit of a Love Interest for Novak's story while David deals with the torture associated being a pawn in Marat’s games.

David is normally the one who reserves the table for their lunch brainstorming sessions so it surprises Novak to see Juan Carlos instead. Novak hasn’t really dealt with Juan Carlos without David around and it’s rather intimidating.  
  
Novak can count on Juan Carlos to comment on the flaws in the story. It is helpful to have someone fixed in reality balanced with Novak’s head-in-the-clouds ideas and David more interested in getting everything onto paper than actual input.  
  
Even so, Novak is surprised that Juan Carlos starts the discussion. "You got to a love interest yet?"  
  
"I was actually thinking along the lines of the Green Hornet movie. Generally with groupies around but focused on a woman who thinks little of his work."  
  
Juan Carlos nods, then takes a glance over Novak’s shoulder before he says in a serious tone, "Is that the deal with the girl you wrote the book about? Not the groupies, obviously, but the second part?"  
  
Novak can’t hide the shock from his face. "Jelena and I were an _actual_ couple. It wasn’t me fantasizing from afar." He pauses, then his voice gets pitchy when he asks, "Did you think I made Jelena up?"  
  
"I… no. It’s just that outside of mentioning the previous book as your experience as an author, you don’t mention her. Yet it sounds as if she saw you differently than you saw her."  
  
"Oh," then stays silent as he ponders that. "I didn’t realize her feelings until I moved to Spain. I thought we’d spend the rest of our lives together. _She_ thought the idea of me writing a book named after her was creepy, not romantic."  
  
"Go figure."  
  
"She took solace by hooking up with Viktor. Thought he was my friend but I was wrong about that, too."  
  
That takes Juan Carlos by surprise, though doesn’t immediately say anything. Novak knows Juan Carlos well enough to realize this doesn’t mean the end of the topic. Finally, he goes in for the kill. "Is that why you deliberately directed David not to draw Andy, even if it’s clearly based on him?"  
  
Novak mutters, "I don’t want to continue this conversation."  
  
"He’s going to figure it out."  
  
"Damn right he’s going to figure it out," David snaps, arms crossed and glaring down at Juan Carlos. "He’s going to figure out that people at the academy are plotting and you’ve gotten them all to decide on this new project."  
  
Novak looks from the standing figure – who is surprisingly scary when he’s mad – to the sitting figure thrown by the venom. Juan Carlos starts, "David…"  
  
"You fixed me up with Marcel? Hopeless-crush-on-Robredo Marcel? Younger-brother-mocks-him-on-the-court Marcel? You think _he_ is dating material?"  
  
Juan Carlos stands up, resting a hand on David’s shoulder as he coolly states, "You need to remember what dating is. He needs to realize Tommy is not the only fish in the sea. That is all. You are too good a person to not at least try."  
  
David makes a concerted effort not to directly look at Juan Carlos. "Kissing my ass is not the way to get what you want out of me."  
  
"If you say no, it’s Marcel, not me, you’re rejecting. _I_ can handle rejection but I don’t know about him."  
  
The silence lasts just long enough to warrant concern. Finally, David says, "Okay. I’ll give him a chance but I know there’s more going on you’re not telling me."  
  
* * * * *  
  
 _Love interest._  
  
Novak sees the two words on the paper glaring back at him as he lays in bed, yet another night passing without having one in his life _or_ his novel.  
  
He doesn’t care what Jelena is doing right now… and definitely doesn’t care if she’s still doing Viktor. Novak knows her phone number by heart and wishes that information would just go away.  
  
Viktor was practically family to Novak. If Novak called home, most likely whoever spoke would mention seeing Viktor at the supermarket or at the store. If it’s his mother speaking, she’d be careful enough not to mention Jelena unless Novak did first. If it’s one of his brothers, there would be no such reservation because neither read the book due to being too young.  
  
Dad wouldn’t bother mentioning Jelena. Then again, Dad is more interested in knowing if his oldest son is still wasting time with silly writing ventures.  
  
As a result, Novak is happy to let the answering machine capture most of their calls. He didn’t want to go back to Serbia but he would be lying to himself if he didn’t miss having family around. Even with all the criticism, they’re important and he doesn’t like this necessary distance.  
  
The group that Novak now has is a welcome relief; they were already more observant that his former friends. Juan Carlos may have been good for snide comments but he was dead-on what he said about Andy. Novak had wondered if Juan Carlos merely put up with him for David’s benefit but apparently the guy had been listening more than he’d let on.  
  
It’s hard to articulate exactly what it is about Andy that makes Novak worry about the Charlie role in the story. Novak has gotten glimpses into the kid who’d been alone in a new country and seen himself - but better because Andy had been here for three years and was improved for that experience.  
  
Andy had invited him onto the tour. It had been done so casually that Novak almost missed it. As much as Andy may have complained, he truly did like having Novak around.  
  
 _Love Interest_  
 _Ignore Pablo’s actual love interest in favor of flings. Pablo is more concerned about Charlie reacting to French-Swiss villain Philippe’s presence. Pablo harbors his strongest feelings toward his sidekick and wants to know why the villain gets to Charlie._  
  
Novak takes that sheet of paper and rips it out of the notepad. He likes the idea but doesn’t want Juan Carlos and David to see it and read further into that than necessary.  
  
More importantly, he doesn’t want Andy to find out and leave him behind.  
  
* * * * *  
  
David suspected this date involved other parties, despite what Juan Carlos said. Even with the list of possibilities, Feliciano Lopez wasn’t even in the top ten. David has lived down the block from Feliciano his whole life. The only reason Juan Carlos ever talks to Feliciano is because he’s fascinated with the entertainment value from Feliciano’s dramatic relationships with both his girlfriend Maria and his roommate Fernando. For Juan Carlos to actually employ the guy’s _help_ is a new low.  
  
It’s now an hour before the date with Marcel and David has been putting up with Feliciano trashing practically everything in his wardrobe in an effort to, quoting Feliciano, "finding anything remotely wearable". So far, the only things that have passed are work boots ("the ruggedness works for him") and one faded pair of jeans that apparently fit "properly".  
  
"Marcel isn’t going to care about any of this."  
  
Feliciano is studying all angles of a denim shirt, determining if it can be salvaged with sandpaper. "I’m under orders to ignore any complaining from you."  
  
"From Juan Carlos?"  
  
"No. Marat wants you to get lucky so Juan Carlos will stop worrying about you being alone. Hence why I’ve been assigned to work on your entire wardrobe as opposed to just tonight’s date. I doubt anyone, possibly including Marcel, thinks tonight is going to work."  
  
David stares at the assorted shirts on his bed. Laid out, he can sort of see Feliciano’s point. "I cannot afford new clothes."  
  
"That’s why I’m dealing with what you have first and _then_ figuring out a suitable attack." Feliciano holds up a white and blue striped button-up from David’s closet, wrinkling his nose. "The sad thing is I can picture this would have been your pick for tonight if I weren’t here. Okay, I know what we’ll do. Wear the work boots with the tolerable jeans." Feliciano then slips off his own shirt and hands it over to David. "Try this on. I’ll take this," picking up the white and blue and deliberately not buttoning it, "and distract Fer with my six-pack before safely torching it."  
  
David works on the buttons of the shirt and looks in the mirror. The sleeves practically flounce on their own, the color reminds him of lilacs, and the material is rather flimsy. Even though Feliciano is five inches taller, David finds himself tugging at the hem.  
  
None of this seems to be noticed by Feliciano, who stands behind David and wraps his arms around his waist as he pronounces, "Excellent start."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Andy is walking down the hallway when he spots the guitar leaning against the door of his room. It’s such a jarring sight that he drops his tennis bag immediately.  
  
The note attached says: _Had a meeting at the Academy for a sponsor so I thought I’d drop by. It’d be fun to hang out before I head to Mallorca for a few days._  
  
"Where…" Andy looks around and sees someone standing in the doorway. He doesn’t want to react to this, not when he knows this is merely a friendly meeting and will never be anything more.  
  
"So nice to see you, Andy," followed by one of his customary warm hugs.  
  
Andy smiles despite what he really thinks of this sudden appearance. They haven’t been alone since that stupid phone call. "What’s with the guitar?"  
  
A shrug but he doesn’t pull away. "Gift from sponsor. Not interested in travelling with it. Toni thinks he has a voice and I can’t take any more of his singing."  
  
"What are you looking for?"  
  
"Open the door and I’ll show you."  
  
Andy stares at his sneakers, muttering, "I can’t do this, Rafa. I… have plans tonight. Sorry."  
  
"Oh. Okay." Rafael lets go, giving a wry smile. "I hope I see you soon."  
  
Andy unlocks the door and drags his bag and the guitar into the room, then collapses on the bed. As far as Andy is concerned, Rafael Nadal is the kryptonite to his heart.  
  
* * * * *  
  
David tries to relax and enjoy conversation with Marcel but it’s just not working. There’s nothing actually wrong with anything Marcel has done. The guy has even made sure not to mention Tommy, which is a bonus. The problem is that Tommy is there and Marcel doesn’t know it.  
  
Literally. Marat, Tommy, and Juan Carlos are sitting in the corner of the restaurant spying on their date. The coaches are both facing David’s way but David is more concerned about the blond that’s ignoring everything. Marat doesn’t actually care all that much about David’s table; he’s more concerned about getting at least one of these guys to come home with him if what’s happening under the table is any indication.  
  
"Does Juan Carlos abuse his power?"  
  
David blinks, thrown by Marcel’s question. He hasn’t mentioned Juan Carlos once, even if his thoughts have been there. "What?"  
  
"His father is the owner of the academy, after all. I would imagine he gets special privileges…"  
  
"Juan Carlos likes tennis but he’s more interested in learning about the family business. He doesn’t want to become an elite player."  
  
"But he’s got Coach Safin’s attention. He’s supposed to be helping those who _do_ care. I’m barely holding on to Coach Robredo as it is because he’d rather deal with better prospects."  
  
David sees Marat’s hand reach across the table toward Juan Carlos’ cheek. Even though Juan Carlos squirms away, it doesn’t really change that this is happening. Or that Tommy seems awfully interested in Marat and Juan Carlos’ interactions.  
  
"I don’t think it’s as bad as you think," David says, trying to keep his mind off that other table even if his eyes are still focused there.  
  
"Really? I mean, you’re a tennis outsider so have a better view than me."  
  
Marat turns to Tommy, then motions towards Juan Carlos. Tommy appears to be sizing up the situation before nodding, then leaning across the table to surprise Juan Carlos with a kiss, then lingering to say something sexual. David assumes it’s something sexual from the proud reaction from Marat.  
  
More importantly, there’s a nod from the blond hair then digging out money for the check. David absently grabs his glass of wine. He doesn’t remember filling it but is glad it’s been done. Better than snatching the entire bottle and downing it. He finally replies to Marcel, "I really don’t know what’s going on among those guys and I wish I didn’t know as much as I do."  
  
Marcel finally notices the trio as they’re not-so-quietly leaving. In particular, watching Tommy wrapping an arm around Juan Carlos then nibbling on his ear. Once they’re out of the restaurant, Marcel tries for casualness but fails miserably when he says, "Guess better to realize you were distracted by the show than to realize I was a boring date."  



	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David keeps his distance from Juan Carlos but it proves to be a great benefit to Novak's story; Novak gets a surprising offer from Andy.

"She should be attractive, conventional. Someone right for a guy like Pablo." Novak has been eager to get the Love Interest on paper since coming up with the idea of her not getting to Pablo.  
  
David mutters, "Maybe she’s a dancer," as he erases a pencil line, then smudges with his finger before redrawing the legs.  
  
"Yeah. Flexible. That would work well. Good thing this is a novel and not a graphic novel because I don’t want to get the drawing _graphic_." Novak smiles at his joke but David doesn’t react, more interested in which colored pencil would work best.  
  
David has been too quiet today. It wouldn’t be a big deal if Juan Carlos was here, as he tends to dominate the discussion. But it’s just the two of them and David doesn’t seem the least bit interested in finding out where Juan Carlos is.  
  
Novak waits for David to say anything to end the silence but finally must relent. "How’d your date with Marcel go?"  
  
"He’s nice," selecting a red colored pencil and switching between that and the graphite as he worked on the attire.  
  
"Okay."  
  
"We’re going to a club Friday night."  
  
Novak smiles at that news. "Excellent. Things had seemed tense when you and Juan Carlos were talking…"  
  
"We’re not dating. Just going to a club. Marcel thought it’d be a good idea for us to maybe act as the other’s wingman and work outside the circle. That way, Tommy doesn’t fix him up again and nobody feels guilty about hooking up with someone else." David takes out a brown pencil, then moves one pencil to his mouth as he works on the coloring.  
  
"Are you intending to look up from that sketchpad? You’re talking way too casually about this."  
  
David takes the pencil from his mouth and sets it down next to the sketch but still continues with the shading. "Feliciano found something for me to wear. A shirt that looks like what’d happen if a bunch of blueberries were thrown at silk and jeans that look like they came out of a dumpster but Feli apparently paid double price for."  
  
"Why are you doing this?" Novak leans forward to push hair away from David’s face. Never realized until now how well the hair hid his eyes as he was drawing.  
  
Even with the reveal, David refuses to look up at Novak. "He shouldn’t have to feel guilty about giving in to Marat’s advances. If he wants to get involved in a threesome with two coaches, that’s his choice."  
  
Novak frowns, having absolutely no clue what led to this conclusion but knowing David is getting more worked up with every word. "You don’t have…"  
  
"With all due respect, if you continue this conversation, I’m walking away and you won’t have this drawing done."  
  
Novak looks over at David’s drawing of Love Interest and can’t resist a slight smile. Long curly brown hair and appearing so sweet with her wide open eyes. Fiery red dress with dark shading to accentuate her curves. "If you get the Charlie drawing done in this mood, I might want to keep you this way."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Novak doesn’t go to the tennis academy for a week. Between David dodging the place and Andy off in a challenger event in Italy, there was no reason to trek there. He uses his quiet time to get words on the paper.  
  
 _Maria Perello literally dances into Pablo’s life. She doesn’t care that Pablo is often distracted by other ventures. As long as they have their tangos on the dance floor and the bedroom, she’s fine with it all. What she isn’t fine with is Pablo interrupting silences to make "important phone calls" that amount to him asking Charlie to research the language used in Mongolia.  
  
That’s the price to pay for wanting to save the world. A woman just cannot understand these things._  
  
So when Andy returns to the tennis academy (too soon as far as Andy is concerned, having only won one match before losing the next easily), both are thrown by the amount of tension on the courts.  
  
"Safin doesn’t seem right," Andy observes as they sit on the bench during a break from beating Novak senseless on the court. "He’s being a grouch around the students. Dani actually stormed off the court… and he is probably the nicest of Safin’s regular students."  
  
"Marat tried to play matchmaker for David because Juan Carlos is not putting out. I think."  
  
"I thought Marat was playing along."  
  
"He was until Coach Robredo got involved with his own agenda. David refuses to come to the academy anymore, which is good because, thanks to Feliciano, his clothes have gone from nondescript to hideously distracting." Novak holds up a pic he took on his phone for Andy to see. "I think David is only doing this as a ‘fuck you’ to Juan Carlos."  
  
Andy wrinkles his nose. "He’s supposed to screw _Ferrero_ over, not himself. I thought my brother had bad taste in clothes."  
  
"No offense, Andy, but if I was looking for fashion tips, you might be the last person I’d ask."  
  
"Good to know." Andy lets out a deep breath, then works on the strings of his racquet. Novak has this sneaking suspicion that Andy is trying to work his way up to giving him bad news because he’s looked somewhat nervous all day.  
  
After what seems like minutes with the strings, Andy finally says, "I’m intending to play qualifying for Barcelona. My coach mentioned there’s a possibility of even getting a wild card into the main draw but I’ve never played a main draw event and that’s more likely to occur during grass season when I’m back home since there are few British players..."  
  
" _Main draw?_ " Novak squeals out, staring as Andy pretends he didn’t just announce some significant news. "How are you saying that with absolutely no emotion? That is a major deal!"  
  
"Playing _qualifying_ will be a major deal. Most of the players at the academy will be involved so Spanish players are more likely to get the wild cards…"  
  
Novak tries to interrupt him, "Andy…"  
  
"…but I’m scheduled for another challenger event in Italy the week before, which might be the trial run I need to actually get any opportunity. Although doing too well there could kill Barcelona qualifying so it’s kind of weird..."  
  
"Andy!" This time he stops and Novak surprises Andy with a hug. "That is awesome either way."  
  
"Thanks." Andy is still looking down but he’s trying not to smile. "The thing is… I was hoping you could come to Barcelona to make the hitting partner thing official. My mum is trying to work her schedule around so she’ll see me if I’m in the main draw but my coach has to head home for a party so…"  
  
"Of course I will! No doubt about it."  
  
* * * * *  
  
"It’s been a good night," Marcel declares as he and David walk out of the club. More accurately, Marcel is leading David out because he’s too drunk to deal with the whole one foot in front of the other part.  
  
David got so drunk in the first place because Juan Carlos decided to call him as if there’s nothing wrong. He doesn’t want to chat and definitely doesn’t want to hear Marat’s voice in the background.  
  
Marcel continues, "I cannot believe that guy actually hit on me. _Nobody_ has ever done that. Sure, he’s a bit shorter than me but he’s got a great smile, even better laugh."  
  
"You should go back for him."  
  
"I need to get you home."  
  
"Your dorm is right here," gesturing to the tall building that is a couple of blocks away. As opposed to his home, which is a half mile to the bus stop – a bus that’s too bumpy to deal with right now.  
  
Marcel stays silent for too long. Finally, "Are you flirting because someone actually likes me?"  
  
"This is why Gerard makes fun of you." Marcel makes a sharp turn, forcing David into a stumble. "Sorry. No… Andy. He’s in your dorm."  
  
"Yes. Why?"  
  
"Novak told me that Andy came home. I don’t want to go to the academy and see the happy people."  
  
"So you’d rather see the miserable Scot and be miserable together?"  
  
David leans into Marcel, struggling to keep up with the taller guy. "I want you to leave me alone so you can go back for your little – no, littler guy."  
  
They walk in as comfortable a silence as is possible given David is barely able to stay on his feet. They’re inside the building, walking down the hallway when Marcel says, "I realize this started as Tommy’s plan but thanks for coming out tonight. Just needed that push." Marcel knocks on what David presumes is the door to Andy’s room. "Here you go."  
  
Andy slowly opens the door, scratching his head upon seeing both of them. "Hello?"  
  
Marcel gives a quick wave, then says hurriedly, "All yours now. Lots of luck," before darting down the hall.  
  
"David?"  
  
"I need to draw you."  
  
"You what?" Andy opens the door and gestures for David to enter.  
  
"You were probably playing video games. Do that. I am tired of Novak claiming Charlie isn’t supposed to be you so I’m going to draw you as you play."  
  
It seems logical in his head but Andy looks at him as if he’s speaking gibberish. "You want to draw me so that Charlie, the sidekick, looks right?"  
  
David sits on the lounge chair, nodding. "Novak says every drawing looks like a clown because when I ask him if it’s supposed to look like you, he denies it. I can draw you. I mean, so it fits the other drawings."  
  
Andy shrugs. "I was just lying in bed, trying to collect my thoughts." He sits down on the bed, not sure what exactly to do now. "Do you want me to pose or…"  
  
"No. I can do a sketch rather quickly. I have a couple of colored pencils in my jacket but it’s just a quick guide." David has already started in setting up. "I need to do this because Novak is driving me nuts. He doesn’t have someone to shut him up anymore." David looks around the room, looking for something to keep Andy occupied. He spots the guitar and asks, "You play?"  
  
"Oh, uh, no. I got it as a gift. I suppose I could try…" Andy picks up the guitar, having no idea what to do with it. He picks at a string.  
  
"No," David holds his hand out, Andy obliges by handing the guitar over. "If you want to pretend you can play, strumming will work. Fernando uses this technique on the ladies." David moves the sketchpad and pencils, then sets the guitar in position. He starts in on a tune and begins singing under his breath, "It don’t matter what I say. You’ll still be here every day. Because I’m singing this song. Don’t matter if words are wrong."  
  
Andy chuckles along, then takes the guitar back. "Oh how I wish right now I was as drunk as you." He settles into proper position, then reconsiders, "Actually, no I don’t. I have a training session at eight a.m. tomorrow morning. You can sleep it off. I can’t."  
  
David has gone back to the sketchpad, muttering ideas. "Angular face, same as Pablo… stick-like but suit tailored well... if the blue is less of a turquoise and instead closer to that color," looking at a Scottish flag, "might be better. Green tie could be a darker shade as well... Your hair is definitely darker than the color Novak was insisting, much more brown…"  
  
Andy tries to repeat what David did on the guitar. David hums along and Andy considers a tune to sing but then suddenly stops and says in his speaking voice, "Juan Carlos likes you but you’re being an idiot."  
  
At first, the comment is ignored and David continues drawing. When his hand stops, David sets the pencils down, leans back and shuts his eyes. Finally, he shakes his head and states, "We would never work. He’s rich and I’m the paid help."  
  
"Huh?" Andy wracks his head for a way that makes sense but it really doesn’t. "I’ve never seen you working there."  
  
"I did when I was a teen. That’s how I met him." David picks up the sketchpad and pencil to jot down notes but continues explaining, "I did cleanup in the middle of the night and went to school in the day. Needed money so I could save for art classes. The grades suffered as a result. Juan Carlos convinced his father to figure a way for me to stay in school while making the money. There was an arrangement for a while but now it’s basically turned into charity because I was long ago taken off the regular schedule but my school is paid for. I absolutely hate it and Juan Carlos absolutely knows it."  
  
"So that’s why you don’t actually make a move on Juan Carlos?"  
  
David nods. "Nobody knows about the arrangement. I know it comes off as pathetic but… I can’t go there."  
  
"Even if he likes you back?"  
  
"He doesn’t like me back. That’s…"  
  
"The only reason he entangled himself with Marat in the first place was to make you jealous."  
  
"What?" David has hope in asking that question but catches himself, realizing Andy is only a student and doesn’t really know what’s happening. He furiously shakes his head. "He’s out of my league. You ever think high like that?"  
  
Andy looks down at the guitar, a reminder of exactly those expectations, and frowns. "Yes, I understand. I wouldn’t be at this academy if I didn’t."  
  
David suddenly focuses in on the guitar itself. He's never been in Andy's room prior to tonight but the guitar looks so familiar. He quickly grabs the phone from his pocket and snaps a picture that he hopes is clear enough later.  
  
"Why did you..."  
  
"I'll figure out the rest when I'm sober. Sleep now."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The villain comes into focus, in both the current novel and Novak’s previous novel.

Novak has notes scattered about on the table as he waits for David at lunch. One particular scrap of paper won’t leave him alone:

_Every villain has to have a secret connection to one of the good guys._

Ever since that nagging feeling about the Philippe drawing, Novak has wanted to utilize this particular nugget in the story. While Novak doesn’t know if Andy’s reaction that day had any meaning whatsoever, it works better here if there was a hidden feeling beyond recognition. As if his heart had been breaking all over again.

_Pablo doesn’t like the way Charlie reacts when Philippe is involved. Pablo is generally a peaceful person but the fact that his sworn enemy is also the one who has made Charlie so closed off makes Pablo want to physically harm him. Make Philippe realize that he shouldn’t be so careless when it comes to someone as amazing as Charlie. Pablo has lived without Charlie around but he doesn’t want to go back to a life like that._

David slams the drawing in front of Novak. Novak looks up at him with confusion, thrown by the force.

"There’s your Charlie. Agree?"

Novak looks down at the table. "Seriously?"

"Yes."

Novak pulls the other drawings out of his notebook and lays everything side by side. "It’s awesome! This is what I was envisioning. How did you…"

"Andy knows Charlie is based on him so I did kind of a caricature while I was in his room." Novak does a double take at that, every part of that sentence throwing him off. "The colors were too bright in the other versions but making the blue in the suit like the color in his country’s flag instead of turquoise made everything else click."

"Oh." Novak needs to take in all this information. He never considered David sneaking around for the sake of the drawing. Still, David isn’t wrong. "How did he react to that news?"

"Andy was amused. Said that’s probably the best he’s ever looked on paper."

Novak smiles easily at that information. "That’s good. Especially now that I’ll be alone with him." At David’s confused look, Novak explains, "Andy invited me to the tournament in Barcelona as his hitting partner. He called this morning to say he got a wild card into the main draw. He wants me around to calm his nerves since he’ll otherwise be alone."

"How are you ‘calming his nerves’?" David laughs at the shocked reaction from Novak at that question. "You’re either lying to me or yourself if you haven’t thought about this from the beginning."

"I…I’m not interested in Andy in that way."

"You two will be sharing a bed because he’s going to have some small closet for a room at this tournament. I know enough about how tennis events work. Hookups…"

"This is a professional arrangement."

"Boys bonding in an unfamiliar city…"

Novak gives an evil grin as he cuts David off, "Thank you, Ferrero."

David narrows his stare but his answer is a rather lighthearted "Fuck off."

"You’ll have to face him eventually."

David bites his lip, then says softly, "I know. Have to go down to the academy next week to talk to his father about… something. Juan Carlos will likely crash the meeting but…" He shakes his head as he says more to convince himself, "It doesn’t matter as much as he thinks."

* * * * *

"Do you think I’m an idiot?" Juan Carlos asks by way of announcing himself in the lounge. Marat is alone and sitting on the couch, absorbed in a tennis match on television. It’s from Monte Carlo, the first of the clay Masters events and that is the start of exciting times at the academy.

Marat gives a quick glance, having no clue how to take that question. "I don’t know if you mean professionally or personally. I don’t want the wrong answer to cost me a job."

Juan Carlos sees Roger Federer appear on the screen and rolls his eyes, then focusing on the Russian. He says calmly, "I have nothing to do with your job or else you would have been fired years ago. I mean the question personally and this isn’t about you specifically. David won’t speak to me. I never thought he’d stay this angry."

"Juan Carlos. Stop playing games. That’s what _I_ enjoy and it worked when it came to Tommy but it’s not you." Marat’s attention goes back to the television and mouths a "Wow."

"My father has a meeting with him scheduled in a few days. I need to figure a way for him to listen by then."

Marat moves to the edge of his seat as the match captures his attention though he’s also considering Juan Carlos’ problem. "How about this? I’ll talk to David first. We know he can’t stand me so maybe I can set him off so he won’t be so bottled up when he sees you…" Suddenly, he yelps, "Are you _kidding_ me! How did he do that?"

Juan Carlos asks, rather bored, "What’d Roger do this time?"

"Well, no. The French kid is kind of schooling Federer in the second set. Roger has been invincible this year. I saw this kid here with Rafael Nadal. That day he was kind enough to do all that promotional stuff for the academy? Had no clue who this kid was but should have figured that a French tennis player hanging around Rafa would have to be pretty good himself."

This has Juan Carlos look at the television just in time to see another backhand winner zip by Federer. Juan Carlos wasn’t at the academy the day Rafael Nadal came by so he never saw any of the people with him. Yet Juan Carlos has this nagging feeling he’s just seen this kid. "He’s Rafa’s age?"

"Yeah. Only ranked one hundred but nice to know that the one-handed backhand lives on with the younger generation."

Juan Carlos sits down on the couch, focus staying on the screen. Not a player Juan Carlos would call physically imposing but the power on the shot is throwing Federer off. Hmm. French. Young. Power. Blond hair. Red polo shirt and white shorts. Juan Carlos can practically hear Novak’s voice in his head throwing out keywords. He mumbles, "David drew him as the villain."

"How’s that?"

Juan Carlos shakes his head, knowing that mentioning any more about Novak’s novel will only make Marat say something irritating. He slouches back and checks his watch. "I have an appointment at four o’clock and figure he’ll be a half hour late."

"You’re going to watch the match with me?" Marat finally turns away from the television and gives Juan Carlos a flirty smile.

"I guess. It’s not every day a new player appears that has a jaded instructor this fascinated. I must see what’s the deal with this kid Richard Gasquet."

* * * * *

Novak has just finished packing for the trip when the phone rings. He goes to the phone, expecting Andy’s name to appear but it’s possibly the worst person to be calling right now. Best to get this over with now, rather than hear the voice message. His voice is harsh when he says, "What do you want?"

"Hello to you too, Nole." Novak kind of hoped his mind was playing tricks on him. Given his conversation with David earlier, he’d have even accepted his parents’ meddling over this.

"Are you going to pretend we’re still friends?"

"I’m not calling for a fight."

"But you are since I clearly want nothing to do with you."

"That was Jelena’s decision…"

"Don’t do this to me. Say what you want and hang up."

"I finally read the book. I told you before I couldn’t… I’m sorry."

Novak moves to the armchair and covers his eyes with his arm. "I don’t care if you’re sorry for falling for Jelena."

"No, I mean I’m sorry that you fell for me. I assumed like everyone else it was about her, which is why I never read it. But it’s not about Jelena, even though it’s got her name on it. She got mad because you distorted the facts. The thing is, you did distort it but that’s because those facts were about me. You and I were the ones who travelled to Germany with just a backpack and slept in a tent under the stars… which Jelena admitted was a beautiful chapter that she wished was true. I’m sorry that I was your first love and I didn’t feel the same way. The first kiss scene in the book was a lot sweeter than the reality of me storming out of the house. That was probably best to rewrite anyway."

"Viktor…"

"I didn’t think it was fair of me to tell Jelena due to your history with her. It’s just that I want to ask her to marry me. I have a ring picked out but I don’t want there to be secrets… this is really your secret, not mine, but whether she sees that is another story."

Novak shuts his eyes, feeling tears already wanting to fall. He says carefully, "I have to finish packing. I need time."

Buzz. Buzz. "That’s okay. I’m not asking her until she and I go to the French Riviera this summer." Buzz. Buzz. "That’s not mine. I think you have another call. I’ll let you finish. Enjoy your trip."

Viktor hangs up and Novak disconnects. Next thing Novak knows, Andy’s surprisingly energetic voice comes on. "Hey, Nole. My ride just arrived so I’ll be at the station in about twenty minutes. You’ll probably regret coming along, given the amount of work still to do." When Novak doesn’t answer, Andy sounds a bit panicked when he says, "Novak, are you there?"

"Not really but yeah. Twenty minutes."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Novak and Andy head to Barcelona for Andy’s first ATP event; David’s meeting with Juan Carlos’ father doesn’t go as planned.

"You’ve travelled quite a bit in your lifetime," Novak says to Andy as they sit on the train to Barcelona.

Andy nods along, then waits to see where Novak is heading with that comment. "Is this about research for The Falcon?"

Novak looks down at his opened notebook, the scribbles having absolutely nothing to do with this question. The phone in his other hand has his full attention. "Sort of. Can you remember everywhere you’ve been?"

"Probably not but I can tell you my itinerary is pretty full as it is." Andy presses a few buttons on his phone, then brings up a calendar. "Just this year, I was back in the UK, Israel for Davis Cup, Italy, then this trip begins a stretch of a few weeks in various parts of Spain, then an event in Germany before likely playing juniors at the French Open, then back in the UK for about a month of grass courts before heading to the US. That was actually a light schedule given I was rehabbing the beginning of the year."

"It’s an amazing life, if you think about it."

"If everything works out. As it is right now, it’s a lot of hard work without much payoff. There have been so many sacrifices…"

"It’d be easier if you weren’t so hard on yourself. The game is actually simpler than you think."

"It’s only simple if you’re prepared."

"Do you think you’re going to be prepared when you fall in love with someone?"

"What?" Andy blinks then shakes his head. "How does that fit into any plan?"

"Love ruins all plans. That’s what makes it amazing." Novak slouches back in the seat. "I want to create this world that is so much grander than how I actually live. By getting this story done, I know I’ll be so much better off than I am right now. Thinking about reality hurts."

Andy is deep in thought, studying Novak as if he’s looking for flaws in a tennis opponent, then surprises Novak by snatching his phone. It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for Andy to find what he’s looking for. "Viktor Troicki is someone I’m _guessing_ is from Serbia whom I _know_ I’ve never heard you talk about. You were on the phone with him when I called to pick you up."

Novak looks out the window. He isn’t sure he wanted to talk about that call so soon but better now than ruining Andy’s practice session later. "Viktor is with Jelena. He told me he’s gonna propose."

"Oh. Sorry to hear that."

"He wants me to come clean with Jelena before he does. I get his point but I can’t. It’s been tough enough with what she _believes_ is true. The truth… I lose my family if they find out… and they _will_ find out because Viktor is so close to them and I’m apparently wasting my life away in this notebook. But Pablo is easier to figure out because he has what I want." Novak suddenly feels his breath muffled against the fabric of Andy’s jacket and a hand on his shoulder pushing him close.

There are several minutes of silence, just staying wrapped by Andy’s arm before Andy speaks into Novak’s hair, his voice deadly serious. "Do me a favor. Do not talk to anyone from Serbia while we’re in Barcelona. For the next few days, we stay in a fantasy world where you are in fact world traveler Pablo Andujar and I can actually beat a professional tennis player on the main tour level. It’s a fun and exciting world and we need to try to enjoy this trip. If you want to talk, we’ll get nice and drunk the night before we leave."

Novak raises his head, realizing that it would be best not to continue this conversation on a crowded train. " _You’re_ going to get drunk?"

Andy wrinkles his nose, now not so sure about that. "As long as we hide these phones. Bad enough I did that once."

* * * * *

David waits outside Mr. Ferrero’s office, his fingers fidgeting with the sketchbook lying next to him on the couch. He always gets nervous that the day will come when Mr. Ferrero will decide none of his work is worth the investment.

"Ferrer. What brings you here? Juan Carlos is on the practice courts."

"Shut up, Safin."

"He’s getting a good show." David’s posture straightens as Marat sits next to him. "I know you think I think only of sex and, in particular, sex with the owner’s son but that’s his game, not mine. He can be conniving when he wants to be. _I_ know boundaries."

"I don’t care about your sex life."

"You care about _his_ sex life and whether I, or anyone else, is involved in it. Truth is, he’s just some rich kid playing games with people because he knows he’s untouchable."

"Why are you talking to me?"

 "You won’t talk to him. That bothers him greatly because he thought he was winning that prize."

"You’re lucky I have a meeting with Mr. Ferrero right now or else..." David shakes his head, then stands up and walks to the other end of the hall. He knows Marat is doing this on purpose, even if he doesn’t quite know what the purpose _is_.

"What, exactly, can you do? Huh? You have no power whatsoever." Marat flips through the sketchbook, smiling at the drawings because he knows David refuses to look his way anymore.

David mutters obscenities to himself for not taking the sketchbook. He can hear the pages turning and he really doesn’t want Marat to have free reign over that book. Especially if he gets to the back pages.

"Frankly, I think you _both_ need to be cussed out." Marat holds up the book on one page in particular and carefully inspects it. He says mostly to himself, "So that’s what Juan Carlos was talking about. That _is_ the French kid who beat Federer." Marat walks over to a photo in the lobby and compares.

David is thrown by the change in subject but realizes this has nothing to do with whatever Marat’s scheme had been and joins Marat at the frame. He looks at the sketch of Philippe and easily spots the person in the photo. "I don’t know who that is but I wasn’t drawing any particular person. I’ve never even seen that person at the academy."

"This photo was taken at the recent fundraiser with Rafael Nadal. This kid, Richard Gasquet, was tagging along with him."

"Is he any good?" David shakes his head. "Must be good. You just said he beat Federer."

"Amazing technique. You know, the French have been crowing about him for years. I see why."

On closer inspection, there’s something else about the photo. "That’s Mr. Ferrero’s prized guitar. He gave that away?"

"Yep, Rafa’s uncle was admiring it. That trumps any value of that guitar. I will miss its spot in the office – as well as Boss’ stories about hanging around Julio Iglesias when he was recording the album – but I hope the gesture was appreciated."

David quickly goes through the pictures on his phone until he finds the one he snapped in Andy’s room. He shakes his head, certain it’s the guitar from the slight crack where Julio’s signature had been faded.

Marat looks over at the photo and spots the same imperfections. "What the hell is Andy Murray doing with it?"

"I have absolutely no idea but I knew something was weird that night, even in my drunken state. I doubt he knows the stories surrounding that gift."

Marat chances a glance in David’s direction. If David didn’t know better, he’d say Marat looks as if he’s… guilty. In the same tone, he asks, "Why _are_ you here?"

David looks around the room, feeling so out of place in this extravagant office space, and says, "I don’t even know anymore."

Marat looks his hand, holding the collection of sketches David worked so hard on, and shakes his head. "I can’t do this. I feel as if I’m kicking a puppy."

"What…"

Marat bellows, "Stop eavesdropping and get in here!"

The door to Mr. Ferrero’s office opens but it’s the son who exits. Marat slams the sketchbook into Juan Carlos’ chest and says, "He’s all yours. Leave me alone," before leaving the lobby.

David feels as if he just got that shot as well. He mutters, "Marat is right. This _is_ a game to you."

Juan Carlos rushes over as if wanting to comfort him. "No, David, you don’t…"

"No, _you_ don’t get to say a word." Juan Carlos stops in his tracks, stunned by the anger in David’s voice. "How fucking _dare_ you! Snap of your fingers to have Marat wind me up. Why not convince my neighbor Feliciano to play Dress Up with me as his test subject because that would be so hilariously entertaining for you. Oh wait, if you make out with Coach Robredo, _that_ will totally fucking work on casting the perfect spell on me while opening the conversation to engage in a three-way with Marat. Kill two birds with one stone. I don’t need this. I don’t need you." He stuffs his hands in his jacket, it taking all his willpower not to completely lose control right here and punch that perfect face. "So of course you have to interfere here with a meeting that is otherwise none of your concern."

That perfect face which has morphed into a coldhearted businessman. "Fine. I’m the bastard. You win. Go back to slumming."

David furiously shakes his head and spits out, "Fuck you," considers going for his sketchbook then changes his mind and storms out.

Juan Carlos collapses down on the couch, a sheet of paper slipping out of the back of the book. "What the…" It looks as if it’s the same style as the ones from Novak’s novel but the character isn’t one he remembers from any of the discussions.

It’s sort of like the Pablo Andujar outfit when he isn’t The Falcon, except not because that one is angular and otherwise looks like Novak. Floppy blond hair. Small face. Sharp nose. Red and yellow tie, in line with Spain’s colors, but the suit is black and crisply drawn. Juan Carlos could have probably pretended it wasn’t what it looked like except for the fact that this character has a fluffy white and grey dog he sees every day when he goes home.

On some level, he probably should have known David would do this but it’s still jarring. "He drew me into the story?"

* * * * *

"Do you think you’ve been a good boy?" Andy says with something resembling an evil grin, holding Novak’s phone above his head. Novak is sitting on the bed in the hotel room. As David predicted, they are staying in small quarters and this probably won’t be good for Novak. Especially if Andy keeps teasing him while they’re around a bed that’s wanting action.

"You enjoy having control of my phone a little too much."

"Because I believe you’re going to continue pining over Jelena for the remainder of the trip."

"I don’t _pine_ over Jelena."

"Your phone _has_ been buzzing with messages. Let’s see," holding the display so it’s only in his view. "Well, you’ll be sorry to know the messages are all from David," then drops the phone next to Novak.

Novak surprises Andy by, instead of dealing with the phone, grabbing onto Andy’s knee and dragging him onto the bed next to him. "I don’t need to think about Jelena if you’re in bed with me," then begins laughing.

"I should learn just enough Serbian to be able to turn you on when we’re out in public."

"You don’t need to learn Serbian in order to turn me on."

There’s a knock at the door just as Andy tries to figure out whether Novak is still joking around. He stands up and stares at Novak, walking backwards. "Hold that thought," before answering the door.

"Hola, Andy."

"No, no, no." Andy rests his forehead against the door frame. "I told you, Rafa. No more."

Rafael adjusts the baseball cap hiding his face. "But we need another player in the room for video game…"

"I have to prepare for tomorrow."

"I get that. I just thought…"

"Please, Rafa. You can pretend you don’t know but I can’t."

"Okay, Andy." Rafael grabs onto Andy’s shoulder and brings him into a hug, which only makes Andy want to cower away. "I will wait for you to change your mind."

Andy shuts his eyes and ekes out the words, "Good luck."

"You, too." Andy watches Rafael’s retreating form, forcing himself not to chase.

Novak cautiously approaches, his voice soft when he asks, "You okay?"

Andy barely shakes his head while still focused on the now-empty hallway. Novak decides to wait Andy out in order to figure what to do next. Finally, Andy says, "I want to go to sleep."

"All right. I’ll take the armchair. I think I saw another blanket in the drawer…"

"You don’t want to share the bed?" Andy turns around, his eyes practically pleading with Novak not to leave him alone.

Without asking, Novak knows that Andy won’t tell him what’s going on in his head until he gets knocked out of the tournament. Novak hasn’t shared a bed with a guy since he and Viktor were still friends... and he’s not sure it’d be any easier to control his feelings in this situation. Nonetheless, Novak was invited on this trip specifically to help Andy play his first ATP-level match. "I can do that for you."

　


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Novak deals with the cloud of Rafa hanging over their trip; David is resigned to his fate after telling off Juan Carlos and ditching the meeting.

As soon as Andy leaves the room to take a phone call early the next morning, Novak’s mind starts racing.

From the urgency with which Andy left, Novak wouldn’t be surprised if the caller is a teenage tennis phenom from Mallorca who he absolutely hates right now. Novak had made his hero in the story a Spaniard but he’s so tempted to make the _villain_ a Spaniard instead. He should have learned from _The Great Jelena_ not to disguise one story with another but he just can’t help it.

Novak scours the room looking for where Andy hid his phone – eventually finding it buried at the bottom of his own suitcase – and hurriedly searches through its contents. David had left two voice messages. One was wishing Andy good luck and hoping that Novak got lucky as well. The second was adding on that _someone_ should get lucky because it’s certainly not him.

There was also a text message from Juan Carlos, simply stating _I rly fked up_. Putting the two together, Novak calls David first but gets a busy signal.

Novak is thrown then to see Andy standing in the room again, debating whether to offer input. He is apologetic for breaking his vow about the phone, starting with, "It’s only David…"

"Yeah, I know." Andy glances at his phone, then says, "He left a message for me last night as well and just called me back."

Novak lets out a sigh of relief, which causes Andy to raise an eyebrow, but only says, "That’s good."

"Not really. David is convinced he’s going to have to drop out of art school. He believes he ruined his arrangement."

"What arrangement?"

"He and Juan Carlos got into a fight just before he was supposed to do a presentation for his father. If Mr. Ferrero already believed in David enough to throw money down before, the issues with the son don’t really matter."

Novak looks dumbfounded at that information. "I never knew any of that."

"Juan Carlos has David’s sketchbook so it isn’t as if the artwork won’t be seen."

"Maybe." Remembering Juan Carlos’ text, that plan could easily work as an apology to David. "But that also means David is without his sketchbook and _that’s_ making him even more edgy."

Andy sits down on the bed, looking at his hands. They both seem to realize David’s hands are always busy when they’re in view. "Good point."

* * * * *

David knows why he headed for Feliciano. His childhood friend’s personal life is usually good as a distraction. This time is no exception, as it doesn’t take long for Feliciano to engage in an argument on the phone with his now-ex girlfriend about stuff still at her place. David doesn’t mind this, a bottle of beer in his hand as he listens to his dramatic friend go on and on about some jacket he would have never missed.

When he is off the phone, Feliciano joins David on the couch and says, "She’s convinced that I’ve done nothing but hook up with other people since we broke up."

"You’re not?"

Feliciano takes the other beer off the table and leans back. David has known this guy long enough to figure the girlfriend is correct. "I can’t help it if I’m flirty but I was actually faithful to her."

"But you _have_ hooked up with others."

" _Since_ we broke up, yes. But she makes it sound worse, as if I’m cheating _now_ when we’re _not together_."

"You’ve tried with most of the group you grew up with. If I ask Fernando how many times…"

Feliciano is quick to cut David off by stating, "Never you."

"Yeah, never me." David frowns, having not thought of that before. Damn nagging insecurities ringing in his head. "Why _not_ me?"

"Would you rather I hadtried?" Feliciano swings a leg over David’s thigh and leans in. "Because I _could…_ "

"No, I mean…" David looks over at the landscape painting on the opposite wall. He had done that painting himself – based off a particularly beautiful sunrise – as a housewarming gift. He is genuinely impressed with the detail in the wooden frame Feliciano bought for his work. "Am I not worthy of you trying?"

Feliciano touches David’s cheek, forcing him to focus on the conversation. "Have you wanted me all this time?"

"I shouldn’t have even asked." He playfully shoves Feliciano away, chuckling, "You’re such a tease."

Feliciano chuckles along, but then considers the conversation. "If you wanted a casual hookup, it would have happened already. It’s not your style. I wouldn’t even ask because you’re the sensible one and would turn me down." David lets out a sigh but Feliciano presses on. "We all know you could get laid if your mind hadn’t been on someone else for years."

David doesn’t want Feliciano Lopez to be serious right now. It’s totally killing the buzz from the beer. "You know what we should do? Two single guys should head to the club."

"I can make sure you’re irresistible."

* * * * *

Novak sits in the nearly empty stands as he watches Andy on the court warming up for his match against some guy from the Czech Republic. He has his notebook in hand as he’s making serious progress on the story.

_Charlie knows more than he lets on. That should be obvious to Pablo but it’s not just book knowledge. It’s as if he’s two steps ahead of Philippe._

_Yet has the fault of giving in during Philippe’s nicer moments._

Novak stops writing as something Andy said early on in their friendship comes back to the forefront:

_Rafael Nadal is the reason I moved to Spain._

It had sounded innocent at the time, as Andy was talking about the work ethic of Spanish tennis players. That same Rafael Nadal had been at their door, coaxing Andy into going to his room to play video games.

He’s been hearing around the grounds about the young players already causing havoc on the tour for the senior players. Nadal, of course, was the biggest name but two other names that pop up are both French. Novak has already seen Gael Monfils and could work him into _The Falcon_ as comedy relief, maybe a henchman of Philippe’s, if he needed to flesh out that character further. The other guy, who wasn’t in this event, had apparently beaten Roger Federer last week. Both the same age as Nadal – Novak getting the growing feeling that might be significant.

A short-haired redheaded woman sits nearby Novak, the only person with real interest within a hundred feet of the area. Novak tries to get a good look at her, figuring from her features this is Andy’s mother.

She notices that he’s looking her way. During the next changeover, she sneaks over to a seat nearby Novak. He wonders if Andy has talked about him or if she’s just this nice to random young men. They both watch intently as Andy ends up winning the first set, only to end up losing the next two.

It’s as he’s getting up that she finally speaks up. "I’m glad you’re around. Sometimes he’s so focused on tennis that he forgets there’s a real world. At least you remind him otherwise."

Novak offers, "He does miss home."

She nods along, then glances at the notebook he’d stashed into his backpack. "Do you have the drawing?"

That takes Novak by surprise, never figuring Andy even paid attention to the superhero stuff beyond humoring him, much less relayed information to his family. "Sure."

She smiles brightly at the Charlie drawing. "I see now why Andy was talking about this. My other son, Jamie, collects comics and thought Andy was pulling his leg. Told Andy the only way he’d be in a comic was if he was a clown. Brothers are like that, though."

Out of the corner of his eye, Novak notices Rafael Nadal looking on with a very expressive eyebrow raised then a shake of his head before rushing to catch up to Uncle Toni. Even though he doubts Rafa has any clue who he is, Novak is quite happy to have made any mark on the Spanish phenom.

* * * * *

David wonders why he ever agreed to have Feliciano as a wingman. Based on their earlier conversation, Feliciano seems to have interpreted the assignment in terms of finding someone for a threesome. It’s rather poor form to try such a switch on some poor soul but Feliciano thinks he can actually pull this off. David is at least grateful that Feliciano’s plan this time didn’t involve some crazy flouncy outfit, deliberately wanting him to stick to a simple white button-up and jeans so it contrasted with Feliciano’s more colorful style.

"…it’s the best of both worlds," Feliciano going on to a prospect sitting at the bar, wrapping an arm around David to pull him back into the conversation. "It’d be a marathon with this one…"

"My running has nothing to do with my abilities in bed," David grumbles to himself, then wiggles out of Feliciano’s grip to say to the guy, "I’m sorry you have to listen to this nonsense, Javier. He thinks so highly of himself."

Feliciano counters in his most affectionate tone, "Aww, you’re so adorable when you’re being all cranky, sweetie," then dares to scruff up his hair. The death glare David shoots at Feliciano is enough to have the guy offer an excuse and then rush off.

There’s the sound of laughter after the guy leaves. Without looking, Feliciano snaps, "This would have worked if you hadn’t shown up."  
Fernando appears in David’s view and shakes his head. "You think you can read people but apparently your reading is restricted toward knowing who’d have sex with you."

"This works in terms of trying to get laid. That was the plan."

"I thought you were trying to get _David_ laid. _He_ looked distracted from that particular goal while _you_ were quite focused." Fernando circles around Feliciano, leering his way. "I just don’t understand why you do that, especially after getting in a fight with Maria."

"This isn’t about Maria. That’s been over for _weeks_ now and I don’t need to be told by _you_ what to do…"

David settles in with a beer, knowing that Feliciano has moved on to his favorite activity: arguing with Fernando as if they’re the only people in the room.

* * * * *

It had felt like a long day, between Andy’s match and having dinner with Andy’s mother, when they finally returned to the room. Andy eyes the bottles of wine Novak acquired with great suspicion. "I know I said we should get drunk but this is a bad idea."

Novak says, "We check for any phone messages now then I hide the phones with your mother so there’s no way you can drunk dial."

"You told _my mum_ we’re getting drunk?!"

"Please. She was too busy searching for a silver fox."

"Corretja?" Andy wrinkles his nose at the thought. "I really don’t need to know about that. Moving on," sitting down on the bed while looking through Novak’s phone messages, then frowns. "Yup, missed call from Serbia. Marko. Voice mail attached, which you won’t hear now."

Novak snatches Andy’s unattended phone on the dresser and does the same thing. "Rafael Nadal is texting: ‘ _ps3 tonite?_ ’ Of course he did. Is that his signal for a quickie?" He doesn’t mean to be so rude about it but suspecting that Viktor has revealed his plan to Marko immediately has him on edge.

Andy stiffens up at the attitude, stating plainly, "I’ve never had sexual relations with Rafa."

"Do you want to? _Have_ you done something and he turned you down?"

Andy shakes his head but reverts to checking Novak’s messages. "When Rafa says video games, he actually means video games. People might have gotten lucky _afterwards_ but I’m not one of them."

"So you _do_ want him?" Novak drops the phone and sits next to Andy on the bed. Andy instinctively leans on Novak’s shoulder, the closeness only serving to make it more difficult for Novak to hear this admission.

"All he has to do is flash his smile and I dare _anyone_ to be able to resist. I don’t want him when I now know there’s better…" Andy turns his head so the rest is muffled by Novak’s shirt. After careful listening, Novak eventually figures out Andy is saying over and over, "I’m sorry" and "I didn’t mean it."

It’s going to hurt to admit all but Novak realizes it’s a must if he’s going to stay around Andy. "We get rid of the phones. It’s time to drink."

* * * * *

David heads for the exit and is surprised to spot Juan Carlos outside, leaning against the wall with David’s sketchbook wrapped in his arms. Juan Carlos is staring at the ground and his fingers keep running along the edge of the book. David cannot remember ever seeing him so nervous. When Juan Carlos realizes he’s being watched, he takes a deep breath and looks up.

David’s voice seems too soft when he finally asks, "How did you know I’d be here?"

"Fernando knows Feliciano too well so told me to follow him here. Meanwhile, I must know _them_ too well because I figured it wouldn’t take long for you to get sick of their flirting and desert them. I had to just hope that you weren’t exiting the club with someone." Juan Carlos holds out the sketchbook for David to take.

"Thank you for giving back the book," David forces out, feeling incredible relief just at having the book in his hands. Juan Carlos nods along, shutting his eyes. David wants to stay here and take in this moment for when he gets home. Everything about this encounter is just overwhelming and he just can’t let on in front of Juan Carlos. It’d be best if he left right now. "Okay then."

David walks away, his steps speeding up as he gets away from view. He doesn’t get as far as he’d like before he gets tackled from behind and moved in the direction of the wall of the nearby restaurant. "Let go of me!" David shouts, even as the grip on his hand tightens and he’s pushed against the wall. Though he suspects it’s Juan Carlos and not a mugger, he can feel tears threatening to come out as fear takes over.

Juan Carlos leans in close to David’s ear and sneers, "I also had Andy doing what I suspect might have actually been his version of yelling at me about you quitting school. Even if it weren’t, it was actually scary that you would consider giving up over this."

In all the years they’ve known each other, David never suspected Juan Carlos was all that physically strong. Juan Carlos normally shook his head in disgust when he saw David working over a punching bag in the gym. This is the first time he’s actually feeling that strength. That, combined with his intensity and the situation, actually scares David. "I didn’t say that! Andy misinterpreted..."

"I’d expect Novak to bullshit me, not Andy and most fucking certainly not you." Juan Carlos forces David to his feet so they’re face to face but there’s hardly any distance at all. His voice is loud and full of frustration when he continues, "What, exactly, would you do if it weren’t for me? You’d be wasting your talents by working on a construction site, decidedly _not_ pursuing your dream of being an artist. You’ve convinced yourself that if you screw up with me, my father’s money will dry up. Which is utter nonsense because my father loves your work and I’d love you no matter what you do. You cannot understand, or at least accept, either of those things so I _have_ to play games," Juan Carlos’ voice trailing off but his fingers pull out a paper inside the sketchbook that’s currently separating them, shoving it right in David’s face. "You cannot do a drawing representation of me like this and just say these dreams are fucking over!"

David can feel his breathing get ragged as he takes in every part of what Juan Carlos said. Juan Carlos is not backing up until he’s given a reason to do so. All David can ask regarding the speech was, "Your father saw the book?"

Juan Carlos smiles warmly, sensing already this as the correct approach. "He’s talking about adding to the artwork in the den so, yeah, he more than liked what he saw."

As important as that is to hear, it isn’t really the question he meant to ask. "You love me?" He has to turn away from Juan Carlos’ eyes but the only thing he can actually see is the edge of the book.

Juan Carlos nods, his voice gravelly when he adds on, "Always have." He glances down at David’s fingers clutching the sketchbook for dear life and places a hand over them. "It was just difficult for you to see what everyone else could."

"Absolutely beautiful," David mutters to himself. Juan Carlos narrows his eyes, unclear what that means, but David surprises him by raising his head and capturing his mouth in a kiss.

They’re interrupted by noises behind them, as Feliciano and Fernando are enjoying the show. Feliciano calls out, "Never doubt my methods."

Juan Carlos rests his forehead against David’s then mutters to him, "I cannot believe that fool is thinking turning his lousy fashion sense on you and plans of threesomes actually worked. Frankly, I’m glad you’re not wearing one of those multi-colored monstrosities when I finally kissed you because I’d like to block all of that from memory."

David chuckles along, then says, "I promise that anything multicolor will be restricted to what’s on paper."


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Novak and Andy’s drunken confessional night.

Novak and Andy are sitting on the floor, the first bottle of wine started. Andy hasn’t taken a sip in the half hour since the wine was poured while Novak is on his second paper cup.

It takes time for Novak to figure exactly where to begin but he settles on, "The name you saw on my phone, Viktor Troicki, is someone I grew up with. We were best friends and my family basically treats him as a member. The thing is, since the book came out, he may have actually replaced me. They think Viktor and Jelena fit better together."

Andy frowns at the thought. "Even though you wrote a book professing your love for Jelena, your family prefers her with _him?_ Wouldn’t they realize how much that hurts you? No wonder you left Serbia."

"Yeah, about that. See, the book was not exactly what you’d call non-fiction."

"I could’ve guessed. It’s a love story and real life doesn’t work the way it does in stories. I’d think your family would understand. That they could appreciate your ability to tell a story and get it published. I’d like to think you’re talented but I can’t read Serbian so I won’t heap that praise on you."

Novak smiles warmly at Andy’s words but knows this feeling will be fleeting upon hearing the rest. "They weren’t so happy upon reading the book and recognizing certain events. I twisted around anecdotes for a better story but the problem was the story wasn’t about my relationship with Jelena. It was using events involving Viktor."

Andy takes the cup in his hand and ponders its contents. As Novak suspected, that definitely changed the mood. Andy’s voice is unusually timid when he finally does speak, but the question takes Novak by surprise. "Were you in love with Jelena?"

"In some way, yes."

"Was she your first love?"

"No." Novak takes a sip then nods at Andy’s implied question. "That’s the problem."

"I see."

Novak leans against the wall, the cup lingering in the air as he contemplated what to say. "Jelena doesn’t know. Viktor’s call was about wanting to propose to Jelena but he thought it’d be best if I told her the truth first so he had no secrets. It’s a difficult conversation."

Andy takes a deep breath before asking, "Does she even know you like guys?"

"I’d guess not. My family is disappointed but that conversation hasn’t officially happened. Tough to say what they’re actually disappointed _in._ So once Viktor tells Jelena, it’s a given that any doubts they have disappear."

"I could see why you’d want to get away from that novel."

* * * * *

Cup number three for Novak is needed before he gets to the question that’s been on his mind since last night. "Do you still love Rafa?"

"No."

"Did you?"

"Possibly. Definitely infatuated."

"Did you drunk dial Rafa?"

"Sort of." It’s Andy’s turn to lean back. "He’d invite me to the video game contests wherever he was staying at that point. He doesn’t have many people his age to hang around. As a result, he kind of gravitated towards me because he could act like a kid. He plays off as innocent but he’s totally not." Novak watches carefully as Andy slouches forward, eyes cast downward as he finally takes a sip from his cup.

The more time that passes, the more aware Novak is that Andy has let the question itself linger. That said, he can sense Andy is figuring how to answer and doesn’t want to interrupt his thoughts.

Finally, Andy takes a deep breath and admits, "So, yeah. The drunk dial was intended for Rafa. He didn’t receive the call, however. Either I had the phone numbers mixed up," Andy shaking his head, showing he didn’t believe that story for a second, "or Rafa asked Richard Gasquet to answer his phone. He and Rafa are the same age. Now, as far as I know, they are not hooking up. Then again, they don’t really have a language in common so there’s no real reason they could hang out, either. Maybe video games worked out different for him."

"So Rafa doesn’t know about your confession because Richard never told him?"

"Yeah. Well, Richard claimed he didn’t understand what I was saying because of my accent but he totally knows and is playing dumb."

Novak has no idea what he’s aiming for when he blurts out, "As far as you’re concerned, then, he’s the villain."

Andy raises an eyebrow, then chuckles despite the prior seriousness of the conversation. "Actually, he’s _your_ villain."

"Huh?"

"He’s your Philippe. I told you that drawing looked like a player on tour?" Andy refills the cup, even though it was still half full, allowing Novak time to fully process the meaning. When Novak gasps, Andy continues, "I just see how people get when they’re around Rafa. I’ve realized how _I_ get around him. Like a lovesick puppy. It’s not healthy." Andy leans back, taking a gulp of the wine then staring at its remaining contents.

Novak studies Andy’s posture carefully, knowing that he’s no artist but he could visualize the pain from vocalizing that realization. Especially for Andy, who doesn’t tend to reveal personal stuff. "I have to think it does get better. Love does seem to hurt before it works out. For everyone else, anyway." He slides over to Andy’s side, wanting Andy not to close off.

Andy responds by edging toward Novak but not looking his way when he says, "It doesn’t really matter. It’s a lonely journey on the tour. I’ve felt that part already and it’s only the beginning."

* * * * *

While Novak was far ahead with the wine consumption at one point, he’s reasonably sure they’re nearing on level now. Or at least, however much Andy has consumed affects him as much as the larger amount does for Novak. Novak’s shoulder has become a leaning post, Andy sometimes appearing ready to doze off. At least the cup is safely sitting on the table next to him so there was no worry of a spill.

Andy sounds nearly asleep when he asks, "How far have you gotten with writing _The Falcon_?"

"Pretty far, actually. I know the plot and there’s roughly eighty pages typed up so far plus assorted scraps I’ve written that would be at least fifty pages on its own. I want to use David’s drawings in the front, as context, so it has the feel of a comic but it’s a novel."

"What are you going to do about school?"

"You know that’s not lasting." Andy has never talked about Novak in art school as anything more than a detour, even though Novak never claimed that’s what he was doing.

"Well, yeah, but what happens next?"

"I look for a job in Valencia, I suppose. I don’t specifically need David for the artwork until at the refining stage but he’s still useful as a sounding board. Maybe I can get a janitor job at the academy." Novak shrugs. "A little of that, waiting tables. I’ll find a way."

"Do you _have_ to stay in Valencia?"

Novak doesn’t want to read too much into this question. He knows just how close Andy is. It wouldn’t require more than a slight turn of the head to read exactly what Andy means… or doesn’t mean. "A writer can do his trade anywhere. Not Belgrade, obviously with all the family drama there, but anywhere else. Why are you asking?"

"I… just don’t want you to lose your way. _The Falcon_ is a great idea that should be finished." Andy drops a hand onto Novak’s hip and Novak feels a heavier weight on his shoulder.

"No other reason?"

"Hmm?"

"Andy, why exactly did you want me here?" Silence. "Andy? You awake?" Novak grumbles under his breath upon not getting a reply. It figures that Andy wouldn’t even stay awake to finish a drunken confession. "You want to go to bed?" Novak gently moves Andy’s head so he’s now resting against the foot of the bed. "You’ve had a crazy day. Time to get a good night’s sleep." Novak uses his strength to lift Andy off the floor so he can land at least partially on the bed. He drags Andy up toward the pillow, curly hair getting more messed up with each move.

Novak has just gotten Andy into something resembling a comfortable position when Andy says into the pillow, "Don’t want to be alone. Always will be alone."

"You’re not going to be alone." Novak sits down on the bed, running his fingers over curls on the back of his neck, hoping Andy will ease into a peaceful sleep.

Andy surprises Novak by swatting his hand then resting his own on top. "I won’t see you for a long time. I’ll miss you."

Novak wishes Andy would turn his head… or at least acknowledge he isn’t talking in his sleep… but twists around so that he’s able to lie next to Andy without disturbing him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Novak and Andy both wonder if they're meant to be in different worlds.

"So I hear you drew Juan Carlos," Novak says as a greeting to David when they meet at the tennis academy.  "Opting not to send further texts was being quite deceptive on your part."

"Sorry," David replies but he’s deep in the middle of a project that’s distinctly un-Falcon-like.  The colored pencils are still around but are only being used for light shading at this early point in the process.

"What are you doing?"

"Juan Carlos’ father has commissioned a piece for his study.  It has to be related to the academy, with one of the students in a practice session with a coach."

Novak gives a smirk, deciphering what Mr. Ferrero would want.  "Does that mean that Juan Carlos and Marat get to do their routine in front of your face, while you get _paid_ to watch?  Quite cruel, considering the confessional."

David shakes his head, then points with his pencil to a lesson in progress involving Coach Robredo.  "Juan Carlos will be the student but it’s about the Spaniards."

Novak then notices the distinct shorts in the drawing – definitely Tommy.  "That’ll work, especially as you already have experience drawing that student."  David nods but doesn’t give any further answer.  Novak pleads, "You know I _have_ to see Comic Juanqui."

David points to the sketchbook under his backpack, muttering, "I know there’s no character fitting with your story but it just kind of happened.  Might have saved me regarding school, at the very least."

Novak nods along, turning through pages in search of Comic Juanqui.  "While this is true, if the book takes off, this is a character that could easily be added.  Pablo must have socialite friends, which could start further adventures.  I’m pretty sure Philippe will eventually have a henchman with hair blooming out of his head like Gael Monfils."  When Novak finally sees the drawing, he smiles brightly.  "I take that back.  This will _definitely_ be in the next installment."

"Speaking of being deceptive, you spend days in a room alone with Andy and you have nothing to say?"

"You mean do I have anything to say about Rafael Nadal glaring at me because he no longer has Andy on a leash?"

That gets David to stop what he’s doing.  He tries to process that sentence, then shakes his head and scolds, "Don’t start a story from the middle."

"Andy doesn’t see that he will soon belong on the main tour.  I saw his match and he’s not far away."

"That’s good.  Right?"

"Yes, I’m happy for him."  Novak puts on something resembling a smile.  "He’s going to move on from Valencia."

"I’d hope so.  The elite all do."  David gives a quick nod, then realizes what Novak means. "Oh.  You think he’s going to move on from _you_."

"It’s a reasonable assumption."

"Pablo has traveled the world, dealt with the most powerful of people in business meetings and wooed the hottest of women.  Yet he loves nothing more than his grandmother’s home cooking and is totally lost if he isn’t able to call Charlie."

Novak frowns at David’s description. "How is that this story was created with the idea of Andy as the awkward sidekick and he’s turned into the hero?"

"Andy is still awkward.  He just happens to have a job that requires him to travel the world and catching the attention of… okay, superficially I get your point.  But he doesn’t open up to just anyone.  Do you realize how many people at the academy are thrown by your friendship with him?  They didn’t even know he could _smile,_ much less laugh.  I seriously don’t think he’s going to forget you."  David lets Novak process that comment then says, "You haven’t explained why you’re convinced Rafael Nadal is giving you dirty looks."  All of a sudden, something in the distance catches his attention and David hurriedly says, "Hold that thought.  Can you watch my sketchbook for a sec?"

"Sure…" Novak barely finishes the word when David shoots up.  "What’s going on?" not expecting to turn around to see David heading toward Marcel.  Novak also didn’t expect to see Marcel holding a guitar case instead of his racquet bag.

Marcel gives a relieved look upon seeing David approach.  When David reaches him, Marcel says, "I was so afraid to go to Mr. Ferrero.  Gerard is convinced I stole it so thinks I’m cool for the moment but… Can you?"

David nods, then holds out his hand to accept the guitar. "Why do you have this?"

Novak reaches them just in time to hear Marcel say, "Andy asked me to get this back to its rightful owner.  I had no idea it was _the_ guitar until he was already out of the building.  There’s a rumor circulating that he’s leaving the academy so maybe he’s..."  Marcel looks from David to Novak, it clear neither had heard that rumor, and stumbles over his next words. "Oh… well… it’s stupid gossip.  I’m sure it’s not… right.  Better get to my lesson before I’m in trouble."

When Marcel leaves, Novak says, with determination, "There is no way Andy is bolting. He would tell us."

David nods, but then realizes he’s actually not sure.  "Do you know what I’m holding?"  Novak sizes up the case, then tilts his head.  "Yes, I know you can recognize it’s a guitar.  It’s Juan Carlos’ father’s prized guitar, which is why Marcel is freaking out over it.  Mr. Ferrero gave it to Rafael Nadal as a token of appreciation, who seems to have given it to Andy.  I told you what I know.  Care to tell me what you know?"

* * * * *

_Pablo frowns as he rereads Charlie’s hastily scribbled note.  It just does not compute that Charlie would leave in the middle of the night to make a trip to some Spanish island in the middle of nowhere.  There has to be something more that isn’t written on the page._

_It really doesn’t help that Pablo doesn’t have Charlie available.  Pablo needs Charlie’s help when it comes to dealing with Philippe, which is so much better than what amounts to a vision quest._

Novak doesn’t want anything to do with the academy.  He stays in his small room for days and focuses squarely on the story, pretending not to care he’s written Charlie as fleeing in the middle of the night to deal with an imaginary Spanish villain that has suddenly appeared where Philippe should be.

He really did need all of his attention to be on writing.  So what if Andy isn’t returning his messages?  It’s irrelevant as Andy _will_ move on, even if he’s not leaving at this very moment – Novak found out from Juan Carlos that Andy had already intended to leave the academy when the tour switched to grass court season, still weeks away.  This made sense as that would have Andy playing in Great Britain followed by his favored North American hard court swing.

Regardless, David is still correct when it comes to Andy’s future in Valencia.  Andy may already be uncomfortable with what happened in Barcelona and is therefore distancing himself from Novak.  That would be understandable, at the very least.  Novak isn’t sure what exactly he wanted Andy to do but he would have been sure that Andy should be concerned at Novak not being at the academy these last few days so there is _some_ avoiding on both sides.  Novak can admit he’s avoiding… but at least he’s being all productive about it in the process.

In this haze, he doesn’t initially notice the knock at the door.  That is, until he hears yelling he hasn’t heard in quite some time.  "Novak!  Stop being a brat and let me in!"

Novak blinks quickly, then shoots up from some contortion he’d gotten into hours ago to answer the door.  "Marko?"

"It’s about damn time," Marko snaps, then wraps Novak in a hug before he has a chance to react.  "Got a message from a friend of yours here.  It was nice to finally hear some news that wasn’t filtered through Mom.  You look like hell, by the way."

Novak pulls away to take in how much his brother has matured.  "I know you’re getting older but pretty sure you’re still not yet allowed to leave the country without permission or a guardian."

"Dad found an investor in Valencia so I tagged along.  He, um…" lowers his voice, "would prefer if you came home with us.  Assuming I tell him that we talked, of course."

Novak nods along.  "That is Dad for you.  Still looking for money from questionable contacts?"

"Something like that, yeah.  Look, I wouldn’t necessarily want to encourage our father but… there’s something I didn’t tell him that you should know.  Your friend said in the message that he thought you needed to come home and talk to Jelena.  That, and I’m going to use his words, he thought you needed to finish one book before you could make real progress on your new story." 

Novak turns around and looks at the table with his notes spread out, that lump in his throat making any reply too difficult.  He finally musters out, "I can’t believe Andy… I don’t deserve…"

Marko stands by Novak’s side and looks over the table.  He’s never seen his brother in writing mode even though Novak did write a novel.  Usually that work was whatever was on the computer.  "How far have you gotten?"

"I thought I had an ending but it doesn’t make sense right now."  Novak picks up the drawings of Pablo and Charlie.  "Pablo needs to let Charlie go on his journey.  Charlie may not be around but always _there._ "

Marko raises an eyebrow at the drawings.  "I didn’t know you drew.  I mean, I suppose you are going to an art school…"

"No, it’s from David.  His work has been amazing.  Very helpful when it comes to this particular story."  He sets the papers back down and concludes, "I do need to talk to Jelena." 

"You’re coming home?"

"Not for good but I can’t hide here, either.  I’ll get my backpack together." 

* * * * *

Andy had been successful at his first futures event since having a taste of the main ATP tour but each week is different.  He knows that he has to let Novak do this trip back to Serbia but it does hurt that he found out from David.  Then again, Andy didn’t tell David the role he played in Novak’s brother coming to Valencia.

It will be easier to be around more familiar faces at the French Open before he’s able to see his family again.  He supposes it’s a positive that Novak is in another country dealing with loose ends.  Andy had tried not to get attached to Novak, even while knowing that Novak was still hung up on issues in Serbia.

That said, Andy immediately has to head to the bathroom upon realizing his first round opponent at his second futures event is none other than Pablo Andujar.  Even though Andy has made a point not to contact Novak, he feels borderline hysterical right now as Novak’s fantasy world and Andy’s real life have collided thanks to some Spanish player from another academy.  Andy knows that Novak would care about this when it comes to _The Falcon_ and would outright hate him if this was discovered later on. 

On the other hand, Andy can’t contact Novak without hearing about Jelena and Viktor right now.  Andy shakes his head, thinking about the hurt in Novak’s voice when he was talking about Serbia.  Andy wishes the time they spent in Barcelona could have ended differently.  If Andy could have just acted on his feelings that night so Novak would have at least _some_ clue that there is brightness on the other side of this confessional.  Andy would have to suffice with telling Novak he didn’t need to be alone any more.

Novak must deal with Serbia.  With that in mind, Andy opts to text Juan Carlos with the message: _Charlie has to vanquish Pablo Andujar.  Send tip to Nole for story.  Actually playing this match.  Must win situation._


	13. Chapter 13

"Andy knows you’re not taking his calls," Juan Carlos says as a greeting when Novak finally decides to call someone in Valencia. It’s been a tough few weeks in Belgrade but Novak knew he had to confront what was home first.

"Hello to you as well," Novak says, rather lightheartedly.

"Picked up your stuff without a word."

"I told David."

Juan Carlos says sarcastically, "Yeah, you did. He’s so heartbroken over your departure." He then throws in a careless, "David, I mean. Do you want his drawings to go to waste?"

Novak laughs out loud. Juan Carlos, the same as always. "You could always console him." The joke hangs in the air, as Novak realizes Juan Carlos may have meant someone else was heartbroken before he changed course.

"He is getting my dad’s work done quickly without your interruptions." Novak can feel the smirk from Juan Carlos from several countries away.

"This isn’t a permanent goodbye. In fact, I’m returning to Valencia tomorrow. I’ve taken care of everything here." Novak looks around his childhood room, more than certain he couldn’t settle for this. "Not sure beyond that. My dad wanted me to stay but I can’t. He’s going to cut me off so I have to determine the next step."

Juan Carlos mutters, "Solid point."

"I have the apartment paid the next two months and could scrape together enough for one more after. That should buy me enough time to finish the bookand start to sell the product."

They can continue that aspect of the conversation when Novak returns. Juan Carlos wants to get back to something Novak slipped in. "How did it go with Jelena?"

"It was tough. She wished she’d known sooner but could understand. Did get to hear Marko tell our father off, which was a surprise. At least one member of my family seems to think writing isn’t a waste of time."

Juan Carlos hums, as if both agreeing and deep in thought. Novak waits him out for about a minute but Juan Carlos finally says, "Andy officially moved out of the dorm yesterday."

Novak lets out a sigh. He knows Andy would’ve told him in the messages so it’s totally his own fault for this hurting so much. Finally, he admits, "I don’t know how to deal with him at this point. However, if I’d talked to him while I was in Belgrade, it would have been even more confusing. He was right; I did need to deal with what I left behind."

"Well, that… that _is_ a good thing. But…" It isn’t like Juan Carlos to not speak exactly what’s on his mind so Novak already figures this isn’t a comfortable subject. "You see, Andy _does_ need you. That part is still true, even if he’s only looking for moral support. It’s not right to shut him out when he didn’t really do anything wrong. He doesn’t deserve to have someone he cares about treating him this way. Granted, he’s never going to say any of this out loud but I deal with David being stubborn on a regular basis so I know of what I speak. I am sure, if you think about everything he’s said, he’s been trying to tell you all along."

One glance of the calendar has Novak realize Andy is en route to France, preparing for his last junior tournament at the French Open. After that, he’ll finally be able to go home. Novak already has his ticket for Valencia and has some loose ends to deal with over there but he already knows where that last month’s rent is heading.

* * * * *

Rather than force David into an awkward greeting, Novak immediately drops the pages in front of him while he’s working. "I would guess you thought this wouldn’t go anyway but here is the first draft."

David has a canvas in front of him alongside a detailed colored-penciled sketch so he carefully sets everything in place before glancing toward the stack. "I’d offer to read it but I don’t know Serbian – outside of the foul language that comes out of your mouth after you get a beatdown on the practice court."

"I am mindful of the audience." At this point, David notices there are two batches of paper on the stack. Novak picks off the top version to reveal to David letters of an alphabet that make more sense. "Of course the Serbian version flows better as that’s my native tongue but, if I find the right person to properly translate, it’ll help market for a broader audience. I did what I could do after I got all the words down."

"This is a really cool cover," David remarks, a hint of regret at not being involved.

"Marko was playing around with graphics software." Novak turns the page, where David’s sketches sit. He tries not to smile at how David’s face brightens up. "Your work will be on the inside. I have to figure what’s cost-effective but my guess is it will be a few pages in the back of the book. I have to find a scanner so I can get everything on the computer and be able to produce a bound-together version of the product for use in presentation."

"Mr. Ferrero has one in his office." David gets out his portfolio so he can put the canvas away. It’s nice to know that, even though they’ve been in different places, David still cares enough regarding _The Falcon_ to drop his other, more important project for a few minutes.

Juan Carlos is keeping an eye on construction of a new tennis court when they approach. Upon hearing David’s explanation, he hands over the keys to David but makes sure to grab his hand in the process, wanting to kiss him but knowing it isn’t appropriate at that moment.

When they get to Mr. Ferrero’s office, Novak asks, "I didn’t want to ask via email but it looks like you and Juan Carlos are doing well."

David sits at the desk, starts up the computer and the scanner but tries to hide a smile behind his hair. "I hadn’t realized until we actually got together how many people thought it was inevitable. When Marat found out, he literally lifted me off the ground to hug me then scolded me for not coming to my senses sooner. Marat and Tommy, to absolutely nobody’s surprise, are a disaster. Tommy’s plan to get Marcel over his crush backfired, thanks to this new student Marc that Marcel initially met when he and I went to a club." He sets the first paper down on the screen and works on the controls. "We’re not actually that much different together; it just comes without the mind games."

Novak chimes in, "I’m sure it comes _with_ extra kissing so don’t pretend otherwise. Not asking for details, man, but I am happy for both of you."

They work in silence from there to finish the scans. David logs into his email so he has a copy of the scans and can send to Novak. As he finishes, he glances at current messages and is thrown by one message. "Why is Mr. Ferrero emailing me? He can’t _already_ know I’m using his computer."

Novak walks around to what David is seeing. The message was actually sent to both David and Novak’s emails, stating they have tickets to the Queens tournament. Juan Carlos leans on the door, revealing the tickets mentioned. David says, "Are you serious?"

"Funny what happens when an academy student gets a wild card in a country desperate for ‘homegrown’ success. Tournaments seem to go for the advertising angle. My dad can’t actually travel to England on a whim… but his son, who _excels_ at promotion, most certainly can represent the academy."

"When did you…"

"When someone needs a push to go after the person he really wants," Juan Carlos strolls toward Novak, "and was especially mean to that person in the process, only a face to face meeting will do. I don’t like using my connections – and I know David hates stuff like this – but you’re going to need to save every cent you can. Consider it a belated birthday gift if you insist you can’t accept." He wraps an arm around David to whisper in his ear, "I hope you see this as an exception worth utilizing."

David leans into Juan Carlos, nodding along as he kids, "Yeah, just this once, you’re safe." They turn to Novak, who tries to cover his teary eyes with his hand but both of them hold an arm out, forcing Novak to walk into a hug.

* * * * *

Andy knew there would be a lot of voice mails, texts and emails regarding his run at the junior French Open… and many, many more glad he’s finally coming home to Great Britain for the Queens event.

One particular email address stood out, with the username the_falcon_is_landing. He tried not to believe it meant anything, but opted to open the familiar-yet-unfamiliar address anyway. There was a picture that took a long time to load but no words. He’d assumed he’d opened spam or a virus when the picture appeared that’s been in his head ever since.

Ever since receiving the email, Andy has been on the lookout. It’s entirely possible the email was just stating that Novak finished the story and he’s staying in Belgrade forever in order to publish there but a part of him hopes that’s not the meaning.

That leads up to today, his first match at Queens. Nearly everyone of importance is present. His mother, his father, his brother, assorted friends and classmates are in the crowd. So many hoping and wishing for a home victory, a nation building its program on such hope that’s mostly reserved for Henman and his hill at this point in time.

He has a towel in his hand, intending to wipe sweat from his hands, when he thinks there’s a sighting of black spiky hair and makes a mental note to check at the next changeover. Right now, he has to focus on holding onto this break lead in the first set so Ventura cannot get a foothold in the match.

It isn’t until the changeover after that when he finally finds the spot he thought he saw the hair and… it really is Novak watching him play and not just a figment of imagination or wishful thinking. David and Juan Carlos are sitting with him and Andy gives a slight nod their way. Only David catches the look – as Juan Carlos is reading messages on his phone and Novak is busy taking advantage of the break to eat a few chips – and waves back.

Andy takes a deep breath, needing to regain focus on the match. There will be time later to deal with other drama.

* * * * *

Novak isn’t entirely sure how they’re going to actually approach Andy. It’s a much bigger commotion than he could’ve imagined at this match, a sharp contrast to the few people who saw Andy’s first ATP match in Barcelona. He knew in the general sense about the British desperation, having watch Wimbledon on television year after year, but to actually see the crazy fans around is rather trippy. He could’ve literally worn a costume and become The Falcon – complete with mask and cape – and wouldn’t look even a little bit out of place in the start of Henmania.

Andy weaves through crowds of people after his victory… his _first_ victory on the main tour… and Novak tries to keep an eye on him. Juan Carlos is waving in a different direction, likely in the path of a businessman.

David tugs on Novak’s sleeve. Novak keeps his eyes on the scene unfolding but bends a little so David can talk in his ear. "There’s a lady trying to get your attention. I would guess she’s Andy’s mother but I never met her and you did."

Novak turns around just as she’s pointing someone – who he could guess from the resemblance is Andy’s brother Jamie – toward them as she heads another way. Jamie moves through the crowd and waves them over. When he realizes he actually has the right people, Jamie breaks out into a smile then says, "Our mum is heading to the locker room. It seems people actually want to hear what he has to say. She said you’re the friends from Valencia with the superhero stuff."

"That’d be correct, Jamie," Novak says then nudges David. "I’m Novak, the author, and he’s David, the artist. Juan Carlos is just our tagalong… he’s the son of the owner of the academy Andy just left so rather important in other ways."

"Well, I cannot speak about the writing but anyone who makes my brother look even _remotely_ cool in a drawing has got to be amazing. Who knows how long all these commitments take so it’s easier if we walk around, get some food and wait."

The four of them manage to fit at a small table by the tents and Novak leaves them to go get drinks. He returns in time to hear Juan Carlos ask, "How would you say he’s been since returning home?"

Jamie accepts the water from Novak then replies, "There were parts that he really misses but knew Valencia was a needed stepping stone. Meeting Rafael Nadal was that necessary step for him to reach the pro level, maybe even produce something amazing."

Novak says without hesitation, "He’s already something amazing. Rafa couldn’t see," causing David to start laughing at him. He snaps, "What?"

Jamie can’t hold back a smile, murmuring, "We in the family all know about Andy’s hopeless crush on Rafa but I meant in terms of his tennis game. In the meantime, you wouldn’t, by any chance, have anything related to the superhero story with you?"

Juan Carlos groans loudly as Novak does pull out the binder he’s using for the project, protesting, "You just had to start him up!"

* * * * *

Andy has finished the last of the interviews and heads for the locker room. He’s just about to peel off his shirt when someone lets out a loud, obnoxious and quite-familiar cough. He stops what he’s doing and snaps, "Jamie, you can’t make fun of me today…" "So I shouldn’t say congratulations? That’s okay, I prefer thinking you’re a loser," Jamie chirps back. "I’ll keep it in mind. That said, there’s one more person who’d like to ask you a few questions. I’ll leave the big shot alone."

Andy lowers his shirt and takes a deep breath. Still looking at the ground, he grumbles, "Glad you could come to the match, Novak."

"Nice win. You did invite me out here if I had any trouble. I just hadn’t realized it."

"Right. So… that was a cute message you sent."

"Yeah, I thought I should give some notice." Novak shrugs. "Whether you wanted to see me or not. I’m guessing from your family’s reaction that was okay."

Andy picks at the hem of his shirt, mumbling, "I may have warned them. You had questions?"

Seeing Andy for the first time in about a month, Novak now can see how afraid Andy is when it comes to showing how he feels. Novak realizes his silence may have been taken by Andy as rejection instead of the time of reflection he needed. "Okay, questions. Right. So, first question. What’s the story with Rafa? I figure you crossed paths with him in France."

That causes Andy to smirk. "Rafa is now a French Open champion. Rather irrelevant, as he’s in another stratosphere."

"That’s common knowledge. I mean…"

"That’s literally all there is to say. I texted him congratulations, as did hundreds of other people. Oh, and he may have a crush on a certain number one player in the world."

Novak laughs at the idea. "That would certainly be screwy."

Andy smiles faintly, then says, "I have a question. How is The Falcon?"

The question Novak should have figured was coming. He’s prepared for this moment and needs to make sure words don’t fail him. Novak leans against the lockers, needing a little more space from Andy in case he doesn’t like what he’s about to hear. The room itself is nearly empty, as Jamie opted to head back with Juan Carlos and David. "I sent you the email message because I did finish the book. There’s something I discovered during my visit home. If… if I’m basing the story on the facts, I have to accept the imperfections and not try to pretty everything up with what I wish would’ve happened. I’ve come to realize that Pablo is a jerk because he can’t realize how great things are with Charlie. Pablo needs Charlie to not be anywhere near as stupid as he is. Pablo just misses the most obvious of clues."

Novak waits for Andy to do something… _anything_ … but he’s still for over a minute. Finally, Andy looks around the room and approaches Novak. "Charlie is not as smart as you think. He has his dumb moments. He lets Pablo get away with so much because... oh, fuck, this is so stupid." Andy pulls on Novak’s arm and leads him to a quiet corner of the locker room that’s blocked by a towering linen cabinet. He pushes Novak against the cold tile, then surprises by attacking his mouth. Novak quickly catches on and threads his fingers through Andy’s curly hair to position their mouths better for kissing. Andy backs away just enough to ask, practically plead, "Please tell me you weren’t talking only about the novel."

Novak whispers, "I wasn’t. I want to be part of your adventures. I’m not silly enough to think we’d be by each other’s side because that’s simply not financially feasible for either of us."

"Maybe, someday, I can become successful enough for you to be my personal hitting partner, or otherwise travel the world together. Better yet, you can travel the world because some publisher wants your book to exist in Czech or something."

"I’d be jetsetting with some French model on my arm…"

"Not if I can help it," Andy interjects, pulling Novak in for another kiss. "I suspect there will be many adventures in our future, hopefully even spent together. How does that sound?"

"Better than anything I could have written."


End file.
